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[April 10, 1967] A Queer Dream (the CBS "documentary" The Homosexuals)

April 10, 2022 Jessica Dickinson Goodman 7 Comments

There is something profoundly queer in enjoying science fiction and fantasy. The genre asks us, again and again, to imagine worlds fundamentally different to the one we live in every day. Worlds with equality of the sexes in a workplace, fair and accountable courts, ends to unjust wars – and of course, pointy-eared aliens, impossible spaceships, and lithesome green women.

Still of an green-bodies Orion dancer from Star Trek: The Original Series episode The Cage — As queer a dancer as I ever saw outside of the Tenderloin.

For many of us, these science fictional spaces are a refuge, a place that is not only safe for imagining, but safe from discrimination, casual cruelty, and doubt as to our welcome. Fan communities, at their best, can be places where fairness, open mindedness, and creativity reign over entrenched biases, reflexive bigotry, and the dishwater-dull thinking of corporate life.

Last month, I felt myself yearning for Ursula K. Le Guin's shapeshifting wizards, the science fictional poetry of Adrienne Rich, the spinning worlds of Star Trek–the direct result of having watched CBS News's deeply cruel, intellectually lazy, and poorly reported documentary piece "The Homosexuals."

Over the course of an hour, reporter Mike Wallace managed to repeat nearly every stereotype, false scandal, and ignorant opinion of this group from the past decade, along with tossing tinder onto the fire of at least two witch-hunts whose scarring cinders had barely cooled. From San Francisco to Washington DC, with law enforcement layovers in Idaho and Los Angeles, this documentary gave platform and voice to faux expert after faux expert who pathologized, medicalized, and generally generalized about a population they are not from and whose membership they only come into contact with during extreme criminal or psychiatric crises.

1955 editorial headline from the Idaho Statesman "Crush the Monster" — Editorial headline "Crush the Monster," referring to homosexuality in Boise, ID. November 3, 1955, *Idaho Statesman.*

It was a bit like watching a reporter interview a panel of ax murderers about about the lives of modern lumberjacks and taking their words on lumberjacks' needs, lives, and values based on their shared experiences wielding an ax.

Love is generally treated much more gently in science fiction and fantasy. There are any number of cruel, debasing, woman-hating or family-hating or love-hating works of fiction available on the average public library shelf, but it is far easier to find acceptance and warmth and a curiosity about all the ways there are to be alive in our shared universe between the covers of a book than on the nightly news. Perhaps that is because those of us who love science fiction and fantasy are used to being seen as queer by the wider world, we can find it within ourselves to accept queerness in others. Perhaps the experience of imagining different languages and cultures and lifeways makes us more open to allowing others to live as makes them happiest.

I think this shared hobby certainly makes us more comfortable trying on new language for size. For example, in the program mentioned above, Mr. Wallace doggedly uses the word "homosexuals," even while one of the several men he spoke to used the term "gay." Once, Mr. Wallace used the term "bisexual," but swiftly dropped it.

A still of Mike Wallace speaking from the 1967 CBS News Report "The Homosexuals." — "Some are bisexual: they marry, have children, and keep their homosexual contacts to the side."

Now, there is no word for this community that is not soaked in blood. I have friends who call themselves saphists or faggots or queers or lesbians or fairies or dykes or homophiles or queens or gays or homosexuals, and that is their right; I'll call anyone what they ask to be called. I use "queer" for myself because I had four years of high school Latin and can't really square calling myself "man-sexual" when what I am is a woman who is plumbing agnostic. Bisexual is a fair enough descriptor too and one I sometimes use in the wilds, but there is something juicy in taking back a word so often used in violent insult, so "queer" is what I use.

It is also how I think of my collection of friends here in California, queer as to their sexual orientation or their genders or just their worldview. It is a wide and colorful umbrella we all crouch under, holding each other close out of the storms of social opprobrium like those given a megaphone in this documentary.

It did not have to be like this. Mike Wallace could have spoken to members of the Janus Society or ONE Magazine, rather than merely filming their doors for shock value; he could have followed in the footsteps of his fellows reporters at my own local station, KQED, who produced a much better documentary on this same subject six years ago titled "The Rejected." If he wished to speak to bisexuals, to women or anyone who isn't a man, to people of color, to people outside of the middle class, all he had to do was pick-up a copy of Tangents or The Phoenix or Vanguard Magazine or ring up the editors.

Song from Vanguard Magazine, 1966 — "The Fairytale Ballad of Katy the Queen" from the August 1966 edition of Vanguard Magazine.

Cover of Tangents Magazine, Dec 1966, covered in anti-war and pro sexual liberation buttons — Cover from the December 1966 edition of Tangents Magazine. Pins include: "Equality for homosexuals," "It's a gay world," and "Be peculiar."

Mr. Wallace could have done what an anonymous congressional aide did nearly 20 years ago in one of the most sympathetic federal reports on queer people; he could have represented our experiences with compassion and care. In 1949, while the United States Congress was debating a change to the U.S. military's approach to discharges, an aide serving the House of Representatives' Committee on Veterans Affairs compiled report entitled: “History of the Phrase 'Discharged Under Conditions Other Than Dishonorable’ and Present Discharge Criteria for Three Services.”

Now, this report title has none of the thrill of Mr. Wallace's headlines from Boise ("Crush the Monster") or the brutal audio he included of a 19-year-old soldier begging police not to tell his mother they'd caught him with another man and near weeping when they taunted him with the threat of telling his commanding officer. But I find the best stories are sometimes tucked away, not behind flashy titles but in tomes deep enough to hide the truth. No one would accuse Professor J.R.R. Tolkien of being flashy, but I find more truth in his writing of the world than many a jazzier author.

Imagine cracking open the Congressional Record of 1949 like we're opening up your well-loved edition of The Lord of the Rings. Find your way to the report, where a staffer explains how extraordinary it is that the committee has received any formal complaints about the blue discharge ticket process – the process by which the U.S. military removed tens of thousands of soldiers, sailors, marines, and airmen from the armed services during World War II. Flip your way past the harsh realities of finding a job with blue ticket discharge and references to reports with names like The Pervert Records (1947), and you will find this impossibly poignant and beautiful paragraph:

“It should be borne in mind that even a moderate amount of complaint in a matter of this sort is significant. For a person to make such a complaint in his own case implies that, he feels, a sense of injustice so great that he is willing to risk publicizing the stigma of having been discharged from the Army under circumstances which savor of disgrace. For each complainant there are many more persons who feel the same sense of injustice but prefer to bury their hurt in as much oblivion as possible.”

Today, most people who I would call queer "bury their hurt in as much oblivion as possible," making the brave few who raise their voices worthy of our shared pride. Most people who I would call queer seek to protect themselves and the ones they love from the stigma and disgrace and frequent injustices that Mr. Wallace's program did nothing to address or to heal. Most of us fantasize about a day when we will be free to be who we are. Of living fully in communities where fairness, open mindedness, and creativity reign.

I think we can get there. I dream about it. I hope you do too.

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Science Fiction/Fantasy, TV

[April 6, 1967] But what of Star Trek? ("The Alternative Factor")

April 6, 2022 Janice L. Newman 9 Comments

by Janice L. Newman

Star Trek has given us some of the best science fiction on television. It’s also, like any weekly show with scripts written by different authors, had some mediocre episodes. But watching with a large group every week, we’ve found that even episodes that had many detractors still had at least a few fans among us.

Until now.

“The Alternative Factor” started strong, with an unexplained phenomenon causing everything in the universe to briefly ‘wink out’. There are several tense exchanges between Captain Kirk and Mr. Spock, and then one between the captain and “Starfleet Command” (though without the delay which one would expect at such a distance). These exchanges set the stage for a fascinating mystery.

"We've got word that this episode is a stinker, Captain. You're on your own."

Unfortunately, from that point on, the episode degenerates into an inconsistent, near-nonsensical mess.

During the phenomenon, a person appears on the previously barren planet below. The captain orders the being beamed aboard the ship. The being is unsubtly named “Lazarus”, though we never actually see him give his name, only hear Captain Kirk call him by it later in the episode. Lazarus behaves strangely, begging for help in destroying ‘a monster’. He’s then apparently given the run of the ship, despite the fact that they are at battlestations.

"Say, the coffee's pretty good in this place!"

What follows feels more like a French bedroom farce than an episode of Star Trek. When the phenomenon occurs, we see two inverse silhouettes fighting, and Lazarus is replaced by a different Lazarus, though this is so poorly conveyed that eventually Kirk and Spock must have a conversation heavy with explanation (that lasts five minutes!) in order to tell the audience what’s supposed to be going on. One of the versions of Lazarus is supposedly mild and calm, but the vast majority of the time Lazarus has interacted with the crew he’s been an eye-rolling, scene-chewing maniac. The differentiation of ‘good Kirk’ and ‘evil Kirk’ in “The Enemy Within” was so well done that the clumsily handling here is doubly offensive.

"Bad" Lazarus choking on a piece of scenery

The fact that Lazarus is allowed to roam free to wreak havoc is consistent with previous episodes of Star Trek (see: “Charlie X”, for example) but even after he’s under suspicion of having stolen critical dilithium crystals, he still easily slips through security’s incompetent fingers (when they bother to put a security guard on him at all).

Eventually, Kirk ends up going through a ‘corridor’ between universes and encounters the rational version of Lazarus, who explains that everything the other Lazarus has said—the claims that his civilization was destroyed, that he’s a time traveler, that the rational Lazarus is a monster in human form—are all nothing more than the ravings of a madman. The insane Lazarus is prepared to meet and fight his antimatter counterpart even if it means destroying both universes.

The rational Lazarus outlines a plan where he will trap the other Lazarus in the corridor between their universes and, with Captain Kirk’s help, destroy the ships which act as the doors at either end of the corridor. Though he himself will be trapped for eternity fighting himself, the universes will survive. Captain Kirk helps him implement the plan, mournfully says, “But what of Lazarus…and what of Lazarus?” (a line they liked so much they used it twice) and the episode is, thankfully, over.

"But what of…" "Yes, Jim. We get it."

What was particularly frustrating about this episode is that there were plenty of ways to make it more coherent and less nonsensical. Instead of having the ship’s crew behave utterly incompetently, Lazarus could have changed locations whenever the phenomenon occurred, allowing him to slip through their fingers without making them seem like buffoons incapable of basic reasoning. Instead of Kirk going along with the plan outlined by the rational Lazarus, he could have attempted to stun the insane Lazarus, and had him escape anyway. Throughout the story ideas are thrown in that seem to come from nowhere, for example, when the sane Lazarus states that destroying the other ship will also destroy his own, it’s the first the audience has heard of such a connection. The ending is poignant, but could have been so much more so if the story had made more sense. The worst thing a show can do is make you ask, “But why didn’t he…? Why didn’t they…?” and I found myself continually plagued by this damming question throughout the episode.

Better editing, more careful writing, and thoughtful direction could have made this story one of the classics. Instead, it’s the worst episode of Star Trek we’ve seen thus far.

One Star.

Bad Comedy

by Joe Reid

Dear Reader, I’d like to preface my thoughts on this weeks’ episode of Star Trek with a number of more pleasurable thoughts. First being that the month of March just ended and almost everywhere in this wonderful country we live in the weather is beautiful. Nature is on full display. Jack MacMahon was just appointed the General Manager of the San Diego Rockets. That’s good news to local basketball fans. Lastly April Fools Day came a couple days early courtesy of Mr. Gene Roddenbury.

My first exclamation of disbelief was provoked very early in the show. The crew was going about what appeared to be routine business. They were exploring a mundane new world, with no life, and no civilization; then the makers of the show boldly went to a place of utter confusion. I said “you have got to be kidding me”, as a red space cloud was layered over the screen in a strange thrusting motion. It had to be the most meaningless moment of television that I have witnessed in a long time. The cheesy effect lacked meaning until characters explained to the audience what it was. At that point it went from being meaningless to ridiculous, but let’s continue.

Trek optical team's finest hour

The second time this airing caused me to question my TV set was not much later in the episode. It just so happened that the red space cloud effect caused life to appear on the dead new world the crew was in the process of scanning. The captain decided that it would be a smart idea to visit the planet HIMSELF and say hi to the new life form. This life form turned out to be a severely accident-prone, waif-bearded swooner named Lazarus, played by Robert Brown. The first thing this biblically named beatnik does is jump off a rock to apparent death. If only we were so lucky as to have lost this troublesome character at his first “death” we could have been spared witnessing the unfocused, angry, conniving, and as I previously mentioned swooning performance that Brown brought to us. The rest of the mainstays were no better. Kirk, Spock, and McCoy took every opportunity to provide Lazarus with unguarded access to anything that he wanted. Which forced me to say, “you have got to be kidding me. They can’t be that dumb”.

"Good thing they didn't think to keep me locked up!"

It would be my earnest desire to say that there was only one more instance of low points of the bad joke that this episode was for me. But like his namesake in the Good Book, Lazarus kept coming back to Life and causing more trouble for the crew of the Enterprise, and they deserved every bit of it for all of the dumb choices the characters in the episode make. Even up until the last scene, with an unsatisfying twist ending, this episode was a painful stinker of a show.

This episode deserves to receive the lowest rating that I can give, and I would if not for a standout performance by the lovely Janet McLachlan, who played Lt. Charlene Masters. Her performance was real and grounded, making up for the abysmal performances that surrounded her in this episode.

2 stars

by Gideon Marcus

I think I understand what happened last week. There are obviously two "Alternative Factors" – one matter, one…doesn't matter.

We didn't get the good one.

In another universe, Roddenberry produced a coherent episode, one in which we actually saw the sane Lazarus on the Enterprise and could distinguish him from "crazy Lazarus with Band-Aid", one in which "engineering" actually looked like the engineering sets we've seen before, one in which a better special effect was employed than superimposing the Triffid Nebula over the screen followed by the "EXTRA! EXTRA!" newspaper effect.

In the alternate Alternative Factor, the bugaboo wasn't antimatter, which every Starship in Starfleet utilizes safely in its warp engines. In that episode, there was an explanation for why Lazarus needed dilithium crystals (after all, it's not as if they were necessary to swap universes). In another reality, there was an explanation why destroying one of the Lazarus ships destroyed the other.

In that alter-episode, it is addressed that one can't actually wrestle another person, even an identical person, for an eternity. Someone is going to get hungry.

On the other hand, perhaps in this posited installment ("The Other Element", perhaps it's called?) we might not have gotten Lieutenant Charlene Masters, who was a welcome addition to the crew, very Cicely Tyson-esque.

Even the redoubtable Lieutenant Masters couldn't save our version of the episode.

Nevertheless, she's still not enough to pull the episode above a dismal 1.5 stars.

(credit to Tam Phan for the idea for this piece)

Next week's episode promises to be better. Come join us tonight at 8:00 PM (Eastern and Pacific). We'll be reading a fanzine, too.

Here's the invitation!

9 Comments Leave A Comment

Science Fiction/Fantasy, TV

[April 2, 1967] On The Immortality Of The Crab (Doctor Who: The Macra Terror)

April 2, 2022 Jessica Holmes 2 Comments

By Jessica Holmes

In Spanish, there’s a rather delightful way to say you’re daydreaming: ‘Pensando en la inmortalidad del cangrejo’. It literally means ‘thinking about the immortality of the crab’.

The Macra Terror by Ian Stuart Black is a serial that I think will quite often have you pondering on crab immortality, and I don’t mean that it’s thought-provoking.

The first thing you’ll notice about this serial is that there are BIG CHANGES AFOOT. Not in anything trifling like the main cast, but they’ve gone and changed the style of the opening titles. Now they flash up a great big picture of Patrick Troughton’s mug on the screen, in case we forget what the main character looks like.

EPISODE ONE

The Doctor and company arrive in a colony that I can only describe as Butlins IN SPACE. For those of you who aren’t from my neck of the woods, Butlins operates holiday camps where they put on lots of group activities and shows and stuff. Not my cup of tea, but they’re inexpensive and very popular.

An unfortunate soul called Medok (Terence Lodge) has run afoul of the law, however. His crime? Not being deliriously happy, and for very good reason. He’s been seeing monsters.

The gang run into him (literally) outside the TARDIS, and the authorities soon arrive to take him for brainwashing, and take the gang for a makeover.

Yeah, haircuts and beauty treatments take up a surprising amount of the episode. The Doctor smartens up for all of ten seconds before promptly turning back into a complete scruffball. It’s mildly amusing, I suppose. I got bored.

It’s also clear quite early on (though it takes the characters a while to notice) that there’s something deeply weird about this place. Is it the singing shift-change announcements with lyrics like ‘we’re happy to work!’? Could it be the fact that they apparently have a ‘beauty president’? Or perhaps it's the omnipresent giant screens broadcasting the face of their beloved Controller (whose FACE is Graham Leaman, but whose VOICE is Denis Goacher, a fact that will make more sense later)?

Can’t quite put my finger on it.

Curious about what Medok has been claiming to see, however, the Doctor visits him in his cell and sets him free, meeting up with him later at a construction site. There, Medok tells him about the Macra: huge beasts, like giant insects with great claws, moving about in the dark. A few people have seen them, but those who fail to keep their mouths shut soon find themselves in the hospital for ‘correction’.

Oh, and there’s one just outside the building site at this very moment…

This is not a strong start. I get what the writer is trying to do here. It’s all a bit ‘Brave New World’ with a side order of creature-feature, but it’s just falling flat for me. The dialogue is very blandly written and quite wooden. It serves its basic function, but not much else. Let’s see if things improve from here.

EPISODE TWO

The encounter with the Macra gets Medok and the Doctor hauled in front of the colony's Pilot (Peter Jeffrey). Medok covers for the Doctor, telling the Pilot that the Doctor was only trying to apprehend him. The authorities send Medok back to the hospital, and the Doctor returns to his quarters.

The Pilot, meanwhile, decides his guests would benefit from some brainwashing. The Doctor wakes Polly up before the voices in the walls have too much of an effect on her, and Jamie manages to resist, but Ben’s completely under the Pilot’s spell, and even runs off to snitch when the Doctor rips the brainwashing equipment out of the wall.

A little later, Ben and Polly have their own run-in with the Macra, briefly snapping Ben back to his usual self as he comes to Polly’s rescue. However, by the time they get back to the Doctor, Ben’s once again mind-controlled. I can tell because for some reason his accent changes. Apparently you get free elocution lessons with your brainwashing.

Finding brainwashing equipment in the Pilot's quarters, the Doctor realises that somebody is brainwashing the Pilot himself. The group (sans Ben) start to question the very existence of the yet-to-appear-in-person Controller. There’s something fishy about the place, and it all seems to stem from him.

The group demand to see him in person, and surprisingly he acquiesces. But the Controller is no longer a young man with a jawline you could use to cut glass. He’s old. Very old. And it doesn’t appear that he’s the man in charge any longer, if he ever was. It's been his face on the screen… but not his voice.

And it appears that he has outlived his usefulness.

The Macra aren’t a new threat to the colony after all. They’ve been running it all this time.

This episode’s a bit more interesting, and the reveal with the Controller is quite well done, even if it is a bit ‘Wizard Of Oz’. PAY NO ATTENTION TO THE CRAB BEHIND THE CURTAIN.

EPISODE THREE

Now that they know the truth, the real Controllers send the gang down to the pits to mine for gas, where they reunite with Medok. The Doctor remains on the surface to supervise and meddle, and manages to reverse-engineer the formula for the poisonous gas that the colonists are mining, but can’t work out what it’s for.

Down in the tunnels, Jamie steals the keys to an access door from an overseer, and sneaks into an abandoned mineshaft. Medok goes after him, but almost immediately runs afoul of a giant claw.

Jamie finds him dead and runs into the beasts that killed him, but that’s not the end of his problems. Learning that Jamie has gone out of bounds, Control vents gas into the old shaft. If this gas is so valuable, the Doctor is puzzled that they’d waste it on killing Jamie. It must have another use. Bear in mind he doesn't have any way of knowing what exactly is going on inside the shaft. He can't see the Macra, or communicate with Jamie. He just knows that Jamie is in there. And yet he manages to come to the conclusion that there must be Macra in the mineshaft, and they must need the gas to live. He’s right, but that’s a leap of logic bordering on omniscience. It’s not very satisfying to watch the invisible hand of the writer blatantly hand a character information.

The Doctor and Polly scramble to stop the flow of gas, but the Macra are encroaching on Jamie…

EPISODE FOUR

The Doctor manages to pump fresh air into the mineshaft just as the Macra begin to drag Jamie from his hiding spot, and then there’s a convenient rockslide just to make doubly sure they’re dead.

With that problem dealt with, Jamie escapes the tunnel and runs into something much worse: cheerleaders.

To escape them, he dances the Highland Fling. It’s… quite something. Unfortunately, Ben catches him, and reveals him to the authorities. It seems the brainwashing is starting to wear off however, as Ben clearly struggles with himself as he betrays his friend.

On the run from the authorities, the Doctor and Polly end up finding their way to the control room, and spot the Macra within. They’re like parasites that have completely hijacked the colony. The Pilot needs to see this.

It’s a struggle to get him to come with them, but the Pilot manages to resist Control’s command, and he’s horrified to find out that they’re telling the truth. Apparently a lifetime of brainwashing doesn’t come with any cognitive dissonance. However, the group are apprehended, and forced into a room which begins to fill with toxic gas.

Ben chooses this moment to finally shake off his brainwashing and come to the rescue, messing around with the gas inflow and outflow to create an explosion. Somehow. And it only blows up the Macra in the control room. This bit is not very well explained at all.

All’s well that ends well, and the colonists try to elect the Doctor as their next pilot. That won’t do at all, so the gang heads off on their merry way, dancing through the celebration as they go.

Final Thoughts

So, that was The Macra Terror. Was it terrifying? Uh, no. Perhaps to younger children, but I’m not scared of crabs so there’s nothing about making a crab BIGGER that makes it any scarier to me. The Macra model itself is quite impressive in terms of scale, I’ll give it that much.

Character-wise, nobody’s interesting enough to comment on, and the plot doesn’t have much going for it either. It’s just a bit dull. On paper the idea of a colony being secretly controlled for an ulterior purpose sounds quite interesting, but the execution just feels flat. Rather than ‘oh my goodness!’ my reaction is more ‘Oh, and?’ because it ultimately doesn’t seem to matter that much.

Everyone finds out they’ve been under the control of a bunch of evil crabs for the past few decades and they just go right back to business as usual once the crabs get blown up. I think there was a missed opportunity to examine how the colony might adjust once the influence of the Macra was lifted. Their entire culture revolves around working and keeping the masses mindlessly happy and obedient. What happens to them when their entire reason to be here is suddenly removed? I’m not asking for half a dozen episodes of political fallout, but maybe a single conversation isn’t too much to ask?

All in all, it’s a pretty forgettable story. Not dreadful, but if you didn’t get to see it, don’t worry. You’re not missing much.

2.5 out of 5 for The Macra Terror

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Science Fiction/Fantasy, TV

[March 30, 1967] The Peacekeepers (Star Trek: "Errand of Mercy")

March 30, 2022 Gideon Marcus 7 Comments

by Gideon Marcus

Star Trek offered a mirror to our present day world of Cold War tensions with its latest episode, "Errand of Mercy".

The episode begins with two mighty star nations, the United Federation of Planets ("a democracy") and the Klingon Empire ("brutal, savage") about to go to war. And not a border skirmish, but a full on, fleet vs. fleet conflict that may see one of the parties laid to heel.

In between them, strategically located, is the planet of Organia. Its inhabitants are humanoid, seemingly primitive. As chance would have it, the Enterprise gets there before the Klingons, and Kirk (accompanied by Spock) attempts to persuade the Organians to accept a Federation protectorate, in exchange for defense, technology, education, and other benefits of enlightened society.

The Organians rebuff a bemused Kirk, assuring him that there is no danger. Whereupon the Klingons arrive, quickly establishing a military governorship. Unable to convince the Organians to fight for their freedom, Kirk and Spock attempt a two-man resistance effort. They are quickly sold out by the Organians, but then rescued from prison by the self-same natives. The Klingon Commander, Kor, orders the slaughter of 200 Organians every hour until they are returned. Again, the Organians assure our heroes that nothing amiss is occurring.

Ultimately, two mighty battle fleets square off in the vicinity of Organia. This proves to be the last straw. The people of Organia demonstrate heretofore unseen power, their spokesman, Ayelborne, appearing in person on the Klingon and Federation homeworlds, announcing the immobilization of all combatants.

The Organians reveal their true power

In a nice moment, Kirk and Kor express their outrage at not being allowed to settle their differences through war. They quickly come around when it is clear they have no choice. In the final act, Kirk broods over his belligerence, feeling much chagrined. Spock explains that they have many millennia to go before they, too, can become Gods.

We've seen many episodes where the Enterprise meets much more advanced races: "Charlie X", The Squire of Gothos", "The Corbomite Maneuver", "Arena", "Shore Leave". Some might even be tired of the theme (I am not–we should expect half of the beings we encounter to be far beyond us; cosmic timescales favor this). But "Errand of Mercy" is the best of this type of show we've seen so far, illuminating our frailties as a species beautifully.

"Errand" is aided by some of the best casting we've seen in the show. John Abbott imbues Ayelborne with dignity and strength, suffused with a penetrating mildness. And John Colicos, who I've seen before on Mission: Impossible, is affably delightful as Commander Kor. By turns irritated and almost entreating, Kor comes across as, if anything, a lonely man. He is isolated by his rank, by his position as an obvious intellectual and aesthete in an Empire of thugs. Kor seems to want nothing more than to have a friend, and the only person who might qualify is his mortal enemy, Captain Kirk. To echo Mr. Spock, "fascinating."

I appreciated the justifications for war laid out by both sides, as they appealed to Ayleborne to allow them to continue their fight. The Klingons, Kirk says, raided planets. The Federation, Kor insists, was hemming the Klingons in, cutting them off from territory that had always been theirs. Yes, the American/Soviet parallels are strong (to the point that Kor boasts that the Klingons will win due to their unswerving dedication to their state, and their positions as cogs in its system). Juanita Coulson, in the latest Yandro, praised the show for its economy of writing, how much they pack into almost throwaway lines. This episode does a lot with a little. In this, they are aided by director John Newland, who did most of this year's excellent (but abortive) spy show, The Man Who Never Was.

And Sulu took the center seat again!

There were some complaints voiced about the show during our viewing. Two observed that Kirk was too quick to take the Organians at face value, asking the wrong questions (when he asked any) as to why they felt so secure. To that, I note that 1) Kirk is, as he says in the episode, "a soldier, not a diplomat"; his behavior is entirely consistent with what we've seen in prior episodes (viz. "The Squire of Gothos" and "Arena"). 2) A war had just been declared, with shots already fired. Kirk's focus was, shall we say, narrow. This also may explain why Spock was unusually accommodating in his impromptu guerrilla role.

Indeed, that's what I love about this episode. The Organians put themselves into a form humans can understand, and yet it's still not enough. Both Kirk and Kor (an intentional similarity of names?) are irritated with these beings who do not behave as they "should". The only beings with whom they share any common ground are each other!

"In another life, I could have called you 'friend'. Wait. Wrong episode.

Another viewer noted that the Federation, as American analogs, would have simply taken Organia, as the Klingons ultimately did (or tried). And perhaps they would have. I like to think the humans (and Vulcans) are better than that. At the very least, Kirk tried to persuade them peacefully. But given the deliberate portrayal of the Klingons as the Federation through a glass darkly, I think the viewer may have had a point. And probably one intended to be gotten by the writer.

Speaking of which, Gene L. Coon is a name that has popped up several times recently. Between writers Coon and D.C. (Dorothy) Fontana, it does seem that Star Trek is reaching a consistent maturity. Gone are references to "Earth" (though the "Federation" has a single homeworld, per Ayelborne the Organian). The show seems to have settled on "Vulcan" over "Vulcanian". The characters are firmly established.

With the arrival of the Organians, one wonders if the character of the show will change drastically. Are the Organians a galactic phenomenon, or do they only care about their sector of space? That they didn't intervene in the war with the Romulans suggests the latter. If the Organians are strictly local, will the Federation and Klingons find other frontiers to fight about?

I can't wait to find out! Five stars.

A Peaceful Fantasy

by Jessica Dickinson Goodman

I've written before about alien cultures reacting to Federation colonialism – from the Horta last week to the Gorn a few weeks before. In this episode, we got to see what Captain Kirk hoped was the beginning of if not colonization, then as Gideon puts it, "protectorate status."

And we saw the Organians gently reject this and all such overtures. Over and over again, we hear varions of of, "Captain, I can see that you do not understand us. Perhaps…" and "We are in no danger."

"Mellow out, man. Everything's cool!"

At first, like Captain Kirk, I thought the Organians unbearably naive. But it turns out that Captain Kirk, and I, were arrogant. They were in no danger; capable of unilaterally ending a war that promised galaxy-wide devastation with a thought. They were ably prepared to defend themselves and the two societies who so wished to do violence around them.

Of all of the god-like aliens we have seen, I liked these the best. No capricious squires or whiny, cruel children; the Organians had a philosophy, the discipline to live by it, and the power to ensure they remained unbothered by outside forces while on their paths. I can imagine the Horta or the Gorn would have envied those powers, though as Commander Spock pointed out, "it took millions of years for the Organians to evolve into what they are. Even the gods did not spring into being overnight."

Spock comforts Jim for being a primitive.

I find these forms of power fantasies deeply satisfying. Every day, we see the power of violence, of guns, of bombs, of war. To see, if only for a few, technicolor minutes, a power to stop war? To prevent violence? To ensure cultural continuity and security in the face of attempts to colonize? That is a fantasy I enjoy a great deal. Lest I sound too star-struck, I will note that I would have preferred to see any Organian women, any evidence of many cultures mixing together, of creativity, of growth, rather than the mild stasis that seemed to characterize their society. But for what it was, it was good to see.

Just don't ask me to live there.

Four stars.

An Actually Superior Superiority

by Elijah Sauder

In this episode of Star Trek, we saw not just the most powerful god-like-beings we have seen, but also the most compelling. In our previous encounters, the god-like-beings' powers were potent, but only in a localized region of space. In this episode the Organians immobilized the entire Space Force and Klingon Empire’s armies. To quote (approximately) Kirk, “We never had a chance; the Organians raided the game.”

"Mooom! He started it!"

As humans we want to feel in control and to exert such control through whatever means necessary; we meddle, we fight. But the Organians did not exhibit the same behavior. They expressed disgust at the thought of meddling, and when they meddled, it was in the most pacifist of ways. This gave them a suggestion of superiority far greater than that of the previous powerful beings, who flaunted their power in a way that was nothing more than human.

I very much enjoyed this episode through and through–not just as a show, but as a writer’s vision of what we should strive to be. Looking around at the violence and overreach of global superpowers we see today, what would it look like if we could transcend our primal nature to something better?

I give this episode 5/5.

The Dittoverse

by Lorelei Marcus

A crucial part of the science fiction genre is aliens, and Star Trek gives them to us in great variety. We have the completely unfamiliar aliens like the salt-monster from "The Man Trap" or the silicon-based carpet monster from "The Devil in the Dark". Then there's the God-like beings, which display evolution well beyond the people of the Enterprise. My favorite aliens, though, are the humanoid ones, because their existence suggests a great deal about the Star Trek universe.

The Klingons are the third race of aliens we've seen that seem to be technologically and evolutionarily similar to the humans of the Federation. First were the Vulcan(ians), and then the Romulans, though there is strong evidence that the Romulans are distant relatives of the Vulcans, and thus constitute one species. The Klingons seem to have a similar relationship to humans based on their appearance, customs, and technology. Perhaps the Klingon Empire is the result of a colony ship like Khan's, launched during Earth's warring period. Yet I suggest there is a larger mystery afoot.

Minor differences aside, there is also a distinct resemblance between humans and Vulcans [and apparently an ability to interbreed (ed.)]. Initially, one could attribute this to the limitations of Star Trek's make-up department, but I propose there is an explanation for not just the connection between humans and Vulcans, but every humanoid alien seen and to be seen on the show.

Amazing fashion sense aside, the Klingons are remarkably humanoid.

This answer lies in "Miri" (the episode, not the character). "Miri" introduces that 'mirror Earths' exist, worlds that appear exactly like the Federation's homeworld, yet with distinct populations and even timelines. While we've yet to see another identical Earth like the one in "Miri", we have seen many habitable worlds and humanoid aliens. What if a common ancestor of the humans, the Klingons, the Vulcans, all started from the same place, on the same world, at a certain early point in its evolution? Then, this proto-Earth was progressed countless times in separate timelines, each evolving into the cultures and creatures we know. Each of these separate Earths were somehow folded into one space, perhaps with some space-time affecting technology like a Starship's warp drive. We already know time travel is possible using the Enterprise. Why not an accidental collapse of the fourth dimension as well?

There is a simpler solution, of course. All of these identical worlds could be deliberate constructs for some higher being's experiment. Personally, I think this explanation is less interesting, but with the number of God-like aliens we've seen, probably the more likely.

Either way, I love science fiction that makes me speculate on the very fabric of the universe. This episode is definitely a great additional piece to the puzzle that is Star Trek.

Four stars.

I have no idea what to make of this next episode of Star Trek. Come join us tonight at 8:30 PM (Eastern and Pacific) and help us figure it out.

Here's the invitation!

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Science Fiction/Fantasy, TV

[March 22, 1967] The Lurking Fear (Star Trek: "The Devil in the Dark")

March 22, 2022 Andrea Castaneda 8 Comments

The Devil’s Advocate

by Andrea Castaneda

There appears to be a recurring theme in Star Trek that showcases how a planet's native species respond to human interaction. In “Arena”, “Galileo Seven”, and “Man Trap”, we’re presented with an outright hostile response that thwarts the possibility of a sustainable settlement. “Devil in the Dark " appeared, at first glance, to go in this direction. However, it is the way this week’s “monster” is framed in an empathetic light that sets this episode apart.

The episode proceeds predictably…at first. On planet Janus VI, a mysterious thing is killing man after man deep in the Pergium mines. Enter the Starship Enterprise, who are called to investigate the matter. After getting briefed by colony chief mining engineer Vanderberg, Kirk and his crew set out to track down and kill whatever this creature is. But not before Spock examines a perfectly spherical rock, describing it as a “geological oddity”. Vanderberg refers to it as a silicon nodule, saying his team found thousands of them after they opened a new level.

It didn’t take a lot of brain power for me to deduce that the nodules were probably the creature’s eggs. The mining operation threatened its nest, so the creature began to defend it. The Gorn in “Arena” and primitive species in “Galileo Seven” responded with a similar hostility to the perceived “invaders”. Why would this creature be any different?

"This egg-like thing? No idea what it is."

Suddenly, alarms blare, the crew rushes outside, and to their horror they see there’s been another attack. Not only is another man left dead, but the creature has taken a vital piece of equipment, one necessary to sustain human life. And while Scotty’s ingenuity buys them time, they now have a race against the clock. Perhaps that’s why Kirk takes on a more militant approach, ordering his men to shoot the creature on sight.

Eventually, Kirk and Spock come face to face with the creature at last. Looking like a blob made out of a shag rug and Chef Boy-ar-dee, it approaches them, and the men fire their phasers. Wounded, a piece breaks off, and it retreats back into the rock. Examining the piece, the men conclude that it is a silicon based lifeform–explaining why it didn’t appear on their carbon-based lifeform scans. As the men speculate about what the creature is, a fear dawns in Spock that it may be the last of its kind.

We are given a similar situation in "Man Trap", in which a lone shapeshifting salt-sucking creature kills many members of the Starship Enterprise to survive. But as the conflict hinges more on McCoy's personal affection for the creature–who looks like his old flame–its death is more symbolic of McCoy choosing duty over love. We get one mournful moment when Kirk reflects on the now extinct species, but it is framed as something that had to be done.

But this is where “Devil in the Dark” makes the most significant deviation from the format. When confronted with the creature again, Kirk has a change of heart when he sees it recoil from the sight of the phaser. Realizing it may be more than just a mere animal, he asks Spock–who now wants the creature dead to save Kirk–to touch minds with it.

Heart to…heart?

This was the moment that made this episode stand out for me. Speaking through the Vulcan, the creature identifies itself as a Horta and explains how she only started the attacks after the miners destroyed her eggs. Because the rest of her species died out, something that happened every 50,000 years, she was left as the lone protector of the eggs.

We are given a similar exchange in "Arena", when the Gorn tells Kirk his kind "destroyed invaders" of his planet, but it isn't nearly as emotionally charged as the Horta’s. Through Spock, the creature sobs, lamenting the impending doom of her kind and calling the humans “murderers” and “devils”. Kirk now realizes the misunderstanding and calls McCoy to heal and save the creature.

Unbeknownst to them, the angry mob of miners overwhelm the Enterprise’s security team, and rush to claim… whatever the Horta has for a head. But Spock, having learned her species’s history, convinces them that she is benevolent by nature. As proof, he explains that she had known about the human colony for the last 50 years, only attacking in recent months as a last resort to protect her species. And by some miracle, the men’s anger is suddenly quelled, having seen the error of their ways. It is, perhaps, an over-generous portrayal of human forgiveness. But maybe the agreement of letting Horta hatchlings help in their mining operations–thus giving them more profit–is what helped let bygones be bygones.

“Devil in the Dark” isn’t a flawless episode. But the moving portrayal of the Horta lamenting her lost future is what made this episode one of my favorites. It offers a new perspective for what the native species of a planet may feel when confronted with the “alien” humans. Still, I can't help but spare a thought for the salt-creature of "Man Trap", and even the Gorn in "Arena", who also may have felt the same sense of existential anguish.

Five stars.

FUTURE IMPERFECT

by Joe Reid

I love and enjoy a good sci-fi story. I am a lover of the works of Mr. Robert Heinlein and other masters like him. In the pages of a good sci-fi book you have fantastical worlds and brave people that are navigating those worlds for the adventure, to save those they care for, and to just plain do what is right and honest. Good sci-fi is so unlike our present world, where the strong, by hook or by crook, take what doesn't belong to them for the benefit of some high and mighty master who already got more scratch than a dog with fleas. Scratch stands for money, for those of you unfamiliar with street lingo.

So this episode comes along and reminds me a little too much of the world we live in. It starts off underground on a planet with the cleanest looking miners I ever laid my eyes on. They have a problem. Something is stopping the means of production of whatever it is that these miners in their all too clean jumpsuits need to mine. That problem is these workers are dying for some reason. Notice that it takes 50 of these men dying before the corporate bosses do something about it.

"You'll be just fine… Bob, was it? Ah, who cares?"

What do their bosses do about it? They do what all big money types do. They send in a fixer to make the problem go away. In comes the crew of the spaceship Enterprise. Their leader Captain “Jim” Kirk shows up and it is pretty obvious early on that all he cares about is making sure that the miners get back to producing. It doesn't matter that there’s 50 men fewer to do the work they were doing before. Money is money!

For almost all of the episode, Kirk is single-mindedly focused. Getting those space rocks moving is more important than anything else. So much so that when we learn that the creature that is killing the miners is a new form of life never seen before, Kirk would rather eliminate it than try to communicate with it. Dr., or Mr. Spock (I get confused about which is right) tries to stop him from killing the creature, but it is to no avail, as the call of space dollars drowns out any call to “seek out new life and new civilizations”. Kirk cruelly dismisses the concerns of his friend and pulls rank on him to force compliance out of the creature. So much for friendship huh, Jim?

"I'm right behind you, Spock."

In the end, it appeared to the viewer that Kirk had a change of heart and started to care about something other than money. He then uses Mr. Spock to talk to the creature, putting Spock at personal risk. For what? So that Kirk can save the creature? Bring back the dead miners? Nope! Having discovered that the creature was smart and didn’t want its species to be killed off, Kirk understood that he could use that fear to make even more money for the corporate interests that he works for. Thinking just like the greedy men of our world, and crushing any hope that the future will be a better place for any of us.

[I'll also note a striking thing Joe said after the episode: "Everyone's happy. The natives work for free, and in return, they get to keep their lives." One wonders if the Horta would have been preserved had they not been such good miners… (ed.)]

Before ya’ll get too upset with me, I know, this is just a TV show. It isn’t real. I'll tell you what though. Things we see on TV and read in paperbacks might very well be real. Only, not just yet. It is the kind of real that we hope to see someday. The kind that we will make happen in time.

And that's why I didn’t care much for this episode of Star Trek. Instead of providing a hopeful vision of the future, I just got to see the same kind of motivations that leap up at me from the pages of newspapers. I hope that the creators of this show can offer me something more hopeful in other episodes. If Star Trek keeps looking like downtown Detroit, where big corporate bosses only care about profits and send their stooges to enforce their desires, I fear that there may not be much future for this picture of the future.

Friendly interaction in Kercheval, Detroit, last summer.

3 stars

A Vulcanian’s Best Friend

by Abigail Beaman

If you were to ask my opinion about Gene Roddenberry's Star Trek, I would of course start gushing over how much I love the cast and concept of the show. It has to be one of my favorite programs that I sit down and watch regularly. Each character has a unique personality that sets him and her apart from each other, so much so that I can remember their names.

While Captain James T Kirk is charismatic and headstrong, Doctor Leonard “Bones” McCoy is cantankerous and hot-headed; but no one stands out as much as Mister Lieutenant Commander Spock. The reason is simple: he is half-Vulcan(ian?), an alien race whose members either lack emotions or repress said emotions. Due to his half-Vulcan side, Mister Spock is best described as a logical, calm, and stoic computerized man. And while it seems he gets along with most of the crew, despite his emotionless stature, there seems to be just one person that Spock truly cares about on the Enterprise. That man of course is Captain Kirk.

How do I reach this conclusion? Well, simply the only time Spock seems to break his stoic behavior and disregard any morals he has (without the aid of a certain flower’s spores) is when Kirk is in trouble. This episode shows just how deep the relationship runs between the half-Vulcan scientist and the charismatic human captain.

At the start of the episode, Spock makes it clear that he doesn’t want to kill the Horta, as he believes it to be the last of the species, a reservation he expressed in "The Man Trap", too. Spock in other episodes also has demonstrated that he values life above all else. It seems that preserving life is a moral of his and to break it would be like him breaking his stoic, Vulcan behavior. Even when Kirk tells the security team that they are to kill the Horta on sight, Spock disregards this direct order and tells the team to try to keep it alive if possible.

"Spock, what did I just say? Kill, not capture."

That is, until Kirk is at the Horta’s mercy. Spock’s opinion of the situation changes entirely: he tells Kirk to shoot it, to kill it before it kills him. The fear that Spock displays not only in his voice but also his movements clearly paints a picture, that Kirk is someone Spock cherishes greatly. Spock runs down the cave to save his friend only to find out Kirk has had a change in heart. Spock was not only ready to kill the Horta, but to sacrifice his own morals for Kirk. I don’t know about you, but the only time I would consider betraying my morals is for someone I consider a true friend, not someone who I work with.

"I'm quickening my pace, Jim!"

Clearly, the relationship between Spock and Kirk goes beyond that of just co-workers. It's a revelation that has been a long time coming, and a welcome one. Which is why I felt compelled to discuss it over any other aspect of the episode. That Spock sees Kirk as someone he cares about, enough to break his “Vulcanian cool” and morals to save, leaves me reassured. Maybe Spock can't be "happy", as he stated last episode. Nevertheless, even if Spock is an emotionless alien, he still can find a kind of companionship in his best friend, Jim Kirk.

Four stars.

Fighting Fire with Empathy

by Jessica Dickinson Goodman

I loved the twistiness of this episode. First Kirk wants to kill the Horta, then he defends it with not only his own life, but his crew's bodies. First it's a monster, then a mother. First Spock is his usual cool, emotionless self, and then he is screaming in pain as he connects himself mentally to the Horta. First the silicon nodules have "no commercial value" and then they become the hope of a new golden age of mining on Janus 6.

"Oooo, that smarts!"

Just like in "Arena," in "The Devil in the Dark" we are confronted with the colonial shortsightedness of Starfleet. Janus 6 is a "long-established colony" whose longtime colonists have somehow managed to miss an entire species of rock-dwelling creatures. Now, their 50,000 year breeding cycle might explain this, but stepping away from the specifics, it does remind me of modern failures of imagination, particularly in cases of colonial governments failing to understand the places they seek to control.

For example, the refusal of the U.S. Forest Service to use the wildfire management strategies that the Tongva Nation, Chumash Bands, and other peoples have used since time immemorial in what is now called California. Last November, this led to the tragic death of 10 hotshot firefighters in the Loop Fire near Los Angeles. Like the Horta, that wildfire burned hot and seemingly without reason; but wildfires, like Hortas, often have a logic of their own. The canyons that burned in the Angeles National Forest had been left uncleared for decades of misguided fire-suppression policies. When all of that mass had built up, of course it burned too hot and too fast to stop. The failure of the Janus 6 geologic survey team to find local life built up another kind of conflagration, one that killed 50. One hopes they won't make that mistake again.

The Loop Fire

Though we can't use Spock's Vulcanian skills to read the minds of wildfires, one of the beauties of science fiction is the hope that we might one day communicate with someone as different from us as blood and stone, or fire and water. The tension between what is and what could be, the twistiness as we get from here to there, is the fun of the genre, and this episode did a great job of letting us enjoy the ride.

4 stars.

In the next episode, Kirk and Spock go to the California Renaissance Faire. Come join us tomorrow at 8:30 PM (Eastern and Pacific)!.

Here's the invitation!

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Science Fiction/Fantasy, TV

[March 12, 1967] Computerized Futures & Humanity (Out of the Unknown: Season Two)

March 12, 2022 Kris Vyas-Myall Leave a comment

by Mx. Kris Vyas-Myall

Computers seem to be appearing in everywhere these days, and now are coming into our schools.

For the last few months, the Brentwood School in Palo Alto, California have been spending 30 minutes a day being taught by specially rigged up IBM 1800s.

One screen is setup to display images, whilst information is relayed over the headphones. The children will then answer simple questions using their “light pen” to write answers on another screen. If they answer correctly, it will move on to the next problem. If they do not, it will attempt to reexplain the problem in a new way, to see if it can help the child understand.

This kind of teaching appears to be effective, although it is likely to be a while before it is commonplace. The computers are still very expensive and there were issues with them breaking down (even, if the kids brought in a “get well soon card” to one of them). However, this kind of future is exactly the type that is being talked about in the latest series of Out of the Unknown.

Returning to the Unknown

It feels to me that Irene Shubik was paying close attention to the response to last season. The most beloved stories of 1965’s series were probably Andover and the Android and The Midas Plague. As such the plays we have this season concentrate heavily on robotics, changes to the nature of humanity and scientific control of people’s lives.

Return of the Robots

Starting with our mechanical friends we get 4 tales of robots (although one I will address in a different section as not to spoil the twist occurring later in the episode). Perhaps unsurprisingly, given Shubik’s friendship and his fame in this arena, two of these tales are from Asimov which round off the season.

I have seen them both classified as comedies, however I would not place them within that genre. They are certainly not as laugh out loud funny as The Midas Plague was. Rather they are satires of human nature.

The first is Satisfaction Guaranteed (originally a Susan Calvin story but she has been removed, apparently so she could be used in the second tale’s frame without confusing the viewer) and concerns the creation of a humanoid servant to a housewife. At first, she is reticent about his presence but, as time goes on, she finds herself developing feelings. I had not been a fan of the original short story, but I found this one engaged me, particularly as I feel the ending is made more ambiguous and downbeat.

The second is even more impressive, The Prophet, adapted from Reason in Asimov’s famed I, Robot collection. In this episode, Susan Calvin tells an interviewer the story of robots on a space station developing a belief that the power source of the station is their Master and humans are merely inferior earlier models. The design work and performances on this are excellent, and the additions of the Calvin frame and religious touches to the robots’ ceremonies make for an interesting and thought provoking spin on an already much lauded tale.

Less successful is the adaptation of Larry Eisenberg’s Fastest Draw. It wasn’t a particularly noteworthy story to begin with (our John Boston gave it just two stars) and it doesn’t amount to much on screen either. Having a millionaire want to relive a western using automata doesn’t end up being much more than a stretched-out version of a plot you might see on Gunsmoke or The Virginian. There is so much talking and padding the appearance of The Marshall is not so much a great reveal as just relief that events are finally unfolding. I think Robots and Westerns are just not meant to mix, on screen at least.

Whilst robots are a major part of the series, we also have Frankenstein-esque tales of scientists changing what it means to be human.

Frankenstein Marks 2, 3, 4 and 5

The most obvious example being Frankenstein Mark II, and not just in name. It follows Anna, whose ex-husband has seemingly vanished. After investigating she discovers he has been part of an experiment to change his body to be perfectly adapted to spaceflight. The unfolding mystery and horrific elements of this episode are well done but there just isn’t quite enough meat on this story as I would have hoped.

Watching Too Many Cooks, part of me wondered if Larry Eisenberg came up with the pun first and built a story around it. Humanity is in competition with a race called “The Sentients” from Alpha Centauri, to improve the position of the Solar System a plan is put in place to secretly duplicate their most successful scientist, Dr. Andrew Cook. As with some of these other pieces it starts out strong but by the end, I am left wondering what the point of it all was. It raises a number of interesting moral questions but then just lets them sit there without any real exploration. I still enjoyed it overall, just feels a little like a missed opportunity.

From duplication of an individual to a rebirth. Second Childhood starts out in a very memorable fashion with a game show, where the rich can risk a million pounds to win a prize money cannot buy. When Charles wins the jackpot, he is able to undergo an experimental operation to regain his youth. It then becomes an interesting morality tale following Charles, in some ways reminding me of Wells’ Invisible Man. Unfortunately, the ending is the kind of obvious twist that reminds me of the forgettable joke stories we used to get during Avram Davidson’s tenure editing Fantasy & Science Fiction.

The final of this class of tales, Walk’s End, starts promisingly enough, with the unusual setting of an old people’s home, where something strange is happening to the residents. With the exception of some apocalyptic novels like Aldiss’ Greybeard, we don’t get many stories of old age in science fiction, here we get two. Whilst Second Childhood approaches it from the perspective of trying to recapture youth, this is about continuing old age, a very interesting topic given the current trend of people living longer. However, I felt it didn’t really develop anywhere and the ending was also less impactful than I believe was intended.

One interesting feature to note about these plays is they are all new for Out of the Unknown, even Too Many Cooks by Larry Eisenberg is an unpublished piece he submitted for adaptation. As in the first season, these seemed to also be the weakest of the stories, perhaps due to the writers not having as much material to work from?

However, the largest selection of tales this season are those where people find themselves in computerized futures, where their lives are no longer their own.

Tomorrow’s World

The Machine Stops opened the season and has rightly been acclaimed as among the best productions the show has yet done. Following closely E. M. Forster’s tale, humans live inside an environment completely controlled by The Machine, no one has to leave their rooms at all, they can make calls, learn, be entertained, give lectures and more all without standing up from their chairs. Whilst Vashti is content in this world, her son Kuno wants to explore life outside The Machine. It is a strongly constructed play, with beautiful design work, and a stand-out performance of Yvonne Mitchell as Vashti.

Curiously, in the Radio Times preview for this episode, it is stated that the set design was inspired by the Edwardian era as they felt the concerns were of the period. I personally think the idea of human disconnection due to over-reliance on machines has become more prescient, not less, as we enter the computer age, and this makes it even more a powerful piece for that.

Level Seven has an interesting history. This script was written by the much-acclaimed J. B. Priestley (famed for such works as The Good Companions, I Have Been Here Before and An Inspector Calls) for an unmade 1960 film adaptation of Mordecai Roshwald’s novel. This was purchased for the series, but it was too long and had a number of elements which would not work on TV. However, Priestley refused to make the edits, so it was up to Shubik to make the necessary changes in-between her producing work for the series.

In spite of this troubled genesis, it is an incredible and powerful play. It is a story of nuclear war, yet for much of the episode it is all kept at a safe tidy distance, as this is meant to be an impenetrable base for launching nuclear attacks from. The people live in this bubble as the realities of war are merely seen through screens and computer displays and they try to go on with their lives as the world above collapses.

One issue is that I could not help but compare it to The Machine Stops at times. Take these two sections of dialogue. First from The Machine Stops:

You talk as if God made The Machine. Men made it, do not forget that. Great men but men.

And then from Level 7:

We built the machine. We were very clever people, and the machines told us what to do and we did it.

I still think they are both strong and worthwhile plays, but it does highlight the limitations of choosing to concentrate on such similar themes in a single run of episodes

Talking of stories that feel familiar, I imagine anyone watching the series would be unsurprised to learn Tunnel Under The World comes from the pen of Frederik Pohl, responsible for last year’s Midas Plague. Rather than an unhappy man struggling to cope in a world where he is forced to consume, here he is forced to endure endless advertising. What makes the play interesting, from our perspective, is that we see the day repeats in almost exactly the same manner, only the nature of adverts he experiences changes, even if it is for the same few products. Mr. Pohl clearly doesn’t like the advertising industry much, but he knows how to spin a fascinating yarn about it and this goes in an unexpected direction for those not familiar with the original story.

On the other hand, I don’t have much to say about The World in Silence. Set at a Further Education College, students are now being taught by teaching machines. But following a realignment the students seem to develop a kind of hive mind and take over the college as part of a computer system in themselves. Much like the story it is adapted from, Six Cubed Plus One by John Rankine, I felt there wasn’t enough there to build a tale around and I had trouble maintaining interest in it (in spite of the wonderful Deborah Watling in the lead).

I did wonder if the same problems would plague The Eye (adapted from Private Eye by Henry Kuttner) with a story that is just discussing a possible murder case by watching it on a TV screen. The premise is that with someone’s life completely observed, the investigators can determine the guilt of anyone by simply watching through the events as they see them. But what they cannot know is what is truly in someone’s mind.

It did manage to use its format to its advantage and kept me more engaged than I expected, even if I felt the ending was a bit weak. It was not the strongest play Out of the Unknown has produced, but still very tightly constructed and well worth your time.

Lambda 1 I have saved reviewing until last as it is easily the strangest. Transport in the future is being performed by Tau, international journeys barely take any time by travelling directly through the Earth via atomic space. On its way between New York and London, the Tau ship Elektron, slips into the theoretical Omega phase and becomes stuck in atomic space The controllers in London attempt to find away to retrieve them, whilst the passengers find themselves in a realm of nightmares.

Lambda 1 was not a short story I had personally rated highly (although Mark Yon gave it 4 stars) but the uniqueness of this play from the others in 1966 makes it memorable and shocking. It is probably destined to be one of the most controversial of the series entries, where viewers will either love or hate it. Personally, I came down on the positive side, appreciating the attempt to do something different, even if I didn’t quite understand all of it.

Into the Known

So, a strong season overall; however, I do believe it could have benefited from more variety as we had in the first run. Robots and Orwellian fiction are a key part of SF, but we have seen this show can do space voyages, time travel or alien encounters just as well.

Another season has been already confirmed and it is planned to be broadcast in colour later this year. Whilst news has emerged that Shubik is moving on to running the BBC’s top anthology slot, The Wednesday Play, she has said she will not leave her current post until all the scripts are in place for a third series. This should hopefully avoid any delays and the future looks bright for Britain’s premiere science fiction television show.

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[March 8, 1967] Absolute perfection (Star Trek: "This Side of Paradise")

March 8, 2022 Gideon Marcus 4 Comments

by Gideon Marcus

The place: Omicron Ceti 3.

The hazard: A lethal showering of Berthold Rays, destructive to all animal tissue.

The mission: The Enterprise has the sad duty of following up on a new Omicron colony, where there are unlikely to be any survivors.

Yet, when the starship arrives, the colonists are not only alive and well, but in perfect health. Too perfect–even scars and excised organs are healed. Colony head Elias Sandoval talks of the new paradise they have found, and he flatly refuses to leave the planet. If only the Earthers knew what they were missing, they'd understand.

They soon do. First Mr. Spock, then the rest of the landing party, and finally the entire crew of the Enterprise succumb to the same spell as the Omicronites. All facilitated by a particular plant (fungus) that has taken root on Omicron. Each of the humans is hit by a shotgun blast of spores, and immediately they feel a burst of contentment and connection with their fellows, as well as an overriding urge to live on the planet. Spock, in particular, has extra incentive to stay: for the first time, he is capable of expressing love, and one of the colonists is a scientist who has held a torch for the Vulcanian for the past six years.

Love in the green grass.

Kirk, whether through happenstance or strong will, is the last to be infected by the Omicron disease. Nevertheless, fall under the spell he does, leaving a moment of utter bathos for the viewer. Is all lost?

But we know Jim Kirk. This has happened to him before, in "The Naked Time". In the end, his love of his ship (which is not just the girders, engines, and phasers, but also the people who crew it) snaps him out of his Lotus-Eating trance. Realizing that violent emotions are the key to breaking the hold of the spores, the captain beams Spock back aboard the vacant ship and hurls insult after insult at his first officer until the ensuing scuffle returns Spock to sanity.

A risky and painful maneuver.

Together, they then induce irritation in the colony members and deserted crew on the planet through a subsonic communicator transmission. A mass fracas breaks out, freeing the humans from the thrall of the spores. A much-chagrined Sandoval realizes that he and his people have accomplished nothing in the three years they have been on the planet, but produce minimal food and tend to the spore-plants. He accedes to Kirk's orders, and the colony is abandoned. Paradise lost, indeed.

This is the story in thumbnail, of course. I am leaving it to my colleagues to expand upon the myriad aspects of this episode that make it so brilliant. We've seen elements of this plot before: the stagnant, placid society with an external controller was just seen in "Return of the Archons". The members of the crew acting uncharacteristically emotional/somewhat intoxicated was explored in "The Naked Time". But the execution of these married threads, the bared souls of our favorite characters, the implications, both technological and philosophical, all are eminently fascinating.

This is my favorite episode of Trek yet. Five stars.

To thine own self be true

by Abigail Beaman

I would like to start off by noting that I have not seen the earlier episode, "The Naked Time", and from what I’ve heard, these two episodes are extremely similar. Which in all honesty, is sad, as I very much enjoyed this episode and hate the idea that it might be a retread. I also feel that, if I had seen "The Naked Time", I might have a lot more to say, but alas you’ll be getting whatever crummy ideas come to my head based on my incomplete knowledge.

Now even though I missed Naked Time, I’ve also heard (as I am a doll who fancies a bit of tittle-tattle) the episodes may air over the summer! So if you missed any Star Trek episodes (and I pray that you haven’t like I have) free up your schedule now for the reruns during 1967’s summer! Now back to the topic at hand.

Pull up a chair.

How would you describe Mister Lieutenant Commander Spock? Would you say he’s stoic? Or maybe the word emotionless comes to mind? My impression of the half-human, half-Vulcanian, is that Spock is a calm, logical, and controlled being who is amazingly portrayed by Leonard Nimoy. He in fact plays the normally cold Spock so well, that, seeing Leonard Nimoy happy and swinging on a tree was actually extremely off-putting for me (although I did love seeing Nimoy smile)!

Spock, just hanging around.

What I’m trying to say is that Spock is a being who simply can’t or won’t show emotions. That’s who he is, who he wants to be (and who I've come to fully accept). Now we don’t know if Spock has ever shown emotions, but none of the Enterprise or past co-workers for that matter, has seen Spock show emotions (except, I hear, in that "Naked Time" episode…). They all knew it was due to his Vulcanian heritage, and that Vulcanians either don’t feel emotions or flat out avoid them. When he gets sprayed with the spores, we see Spock show pain, as he seems to be fighting back his emotions, and even if it isn’t physical pain and just him trying to prevent showing even a sliver of emotion doesn’t that tell you something? He doesn’t want his emotions. To him emotions are illogical. Perhaps, even shameful.

Love hurts.

I haven’t forgotten the elephant in the room, that being Leila. While yes I want Spock to be happy (as his wife, I want the best for him always), Leila is not the girl for him. What she wants can never be achieved. She wanted to change Spock into someone who would love her, but that wouldn't be Spock. Even when she is off the spores (drug parlance intended), and knows what they did to her mind, she still wants to be on them so she can be happy and love Spock without all the pain it brings her. That’s why I feel nothing but pity for her. At the end of the episode she does, in fact, accept that Spock is who Spock wants to be. He is in his own “self-made purgatory” and so is she. Spock’s is to shun emotions, while hers is being in love with a man who shuns emotions.

"We all live in our own self-made Purgatories…"

That’s why one of the biggest lines uttered in this episode, “For the first time in my life, I was happy” feels like a stab in the back to fans (and might I say lovers) of Spock. Some people believe it’s Spock being wistful for an emotion he felt, at last, and can no longer feel again (and it’s torturous, to say the least, as a wife of Spock, to know I can't make him happy), but I would argue Spock is instead ashamed of showing that emotion. It’s something he has, and will likely continue to actively avoid his whole life. He was happy, but at what cost? Being happy isn’t Spock. Being logical and computerized is Spock. He is in his own “self-made purgatory”, and it seems Spock is himself, when in it.

Not happy, but at least, perhaps, satisfied.

This episode did have some downers, like the introduction of spores being able to regrow organs, and the crew just sorta saying “doesn’t matter, let’s leave”, but it’s a solid episode I can get behind. I would rate this episode a high 4.5 stars.

Debating Paradise in a Vacuum

by Tam Phan (Secret Asian Man)

What would you give to have perfect health and no worries? At first glance, it looks like Sandoval and the colonists have it all figured out. There’s no clear reason as to why they should leave, but Kirk says otherwise. Is he right? Initially he wanted to save them from the radiation. Yet, he continues to press the matter even after he quickly discovers it’s no longer a threat, which leads me to believe that his version of paradise is not the same as Sandoval’s.

Sandoval's paradise.

Kirk’s version of paradise requires some type of progress. For him, living in a world without it might be the furthest thing from paradise, but that’s not necessarily true for others. How does Kirk know what kind of progress is acceptable? Sandoval just wanted to build a garden. Couldn’t that also be considered progress? If one is content with life, isn’t achieving enlightenment a form of paradise? Does Kirk have the right to take that away from someone?

Kirk's paradise.

On the surface, one could interpret this episode as yet another bout of Kirk imposing his ideals and beliefs onto other cultures. But is it? Where “Return of the Archons” fails, “This Side of Paradise” succeeds, giving us a slightly different perspective where (I believe) Kirk’s intrusion is warranted. In both episodes, everyone is under some influence that causes them to behave in a way that is abnormal, and though the difference is subtle, it makes all the difference. In “Return of the Archons”, there’s an already existing culture. They’ve been living this way for a very long time, and the only justification for interference is that an uprising might well have been inevitable; Kirk just sped up the process. In “This Side of Paradise”, however, the colonists had desires and goals before they came under the influence of the spores. Kirk’s interference was necessary to break the colonists free from behaving out of the norm, and that none chose to go back to the spore-drugged existence is telling. Of course, one could argue that Spock and Kalomi might have been perfectly happy together (indeed, Spock implies it would be the only way he could be happy), but Spock chose a different path in the end.

There is a clear anti-drug metaphor in this episode, which I appreciate. It’s not much of a paradise to me if you’re not in your right mind and don’t have the capacity to make decisions for yourself. It may have made them physically healthy, but mentally, it was a different story. Then again, maybe ignorance is bliss.

Five stars

The Best of the Best

by Janice L. Newman

I have to agree with my friends above: this was one of the best episodes of Star Trek yet. As I watched I was drawn into the emotional core of the story, but I also couldn’t help but note how well crafted it was. The writing, the pacing, and the carefully set up reveals were very, very well done.

One sequence stands out in particular. Kirk, having avoided being infected by the spores, makes his way to the bridge. He encounters one of the flowers that his own crew have brought aboard, and tosses it aside in a rage. Several scenes later, he returns to the empty bridge and sits there, alone, expressing to the uncaring computer his frustration, helplessness and grief at the loss of his crew. And just as the audience thinks Kirk has reached the lowest point and are wondering how–nay, expecting that he’s going to turn things around…he gets hit with a blast of spores from the forgotten flower. It’s masterful.

This script was also particularly well-written, with memorable lines like, “I am what I am, Leila, and if there are self-made purgatories, then we all have to live in them. Mine can be no worse than someone else's.” And although the music was once again mostly recycled from earlier episodes, it was carefully integrated: the musical stings and cues emphasized the action without overwhelming it.

This episode is one of the best examples of how different Star Trek is from other so-called science fiction shows on television. It’s a nuanced, bittersweet story written for adults, and as such, it’s already miles ahead of Time Tunnel and Voyage to the Bottom of the Sea. Maybe even The Twilight Zone. I cannot wait to see what the Star Trek writers, actors, and directors come up with next.

Five stars.

Too Many Shirts

by Erica Frank

This is Sulu's third incident of mind-altering effects resulting in bliss. If this keeps up, he's going to become known as the Enterprise's resident accidental "stoner." (He is a botanist, after all…) I suppose the need for agricultural labor kept his shirt on this time. Pity.

Happy Sulu

Nobody else is shirtless in this episode either. Is the planet a bit chilly? Are there no nudists aboard the Enterprise? Does Kirk only lose his shirt to violence, never to joy? And even the spores cannot overcome Spock's modesty. Such a shame.

Setting aside the emotional effects, the spores have tremendous medical possibilities. Surely Starfleet will want to study them—a plant that protects people from deadly radiation and heals past injuries? Incredible! Side effects include… happiness and contentment? What an amazing retirement colony Omicron Ceti 3 could be!

"And they've got shuffleboard at 3:30!"

Of course, in order to get such a place built, they'd need a way to regularly snap people out of the influence. The colonists have managed to sustain themselves but failed at their development plans. Also, we saw no children on this "colony" planet. That may be one of the other side effects of the pollen—one that would prevent it from functioning as a growing colony, but could be a tremendous benefit for a medical center or retirement home.

Alternatively, it could become a prison planet: used to house violent offenders who've been deemed to have no hope of integration with society. Would Khan's people have accepted this planet instead? I suppose Kirk would consider that a "waste of potential." And the Federation itself may have uses for this one.

The Federation should immediately start researching how to set up a permanent center, possibly with a starbase in orbit to snap key personnel out of their euphoric stupor. Perhaps the ground crews would wear gas masks while residents breathe freely. Of course, there are the deadly Berthold Rays to consider: the spores give immunity; anyone without them is limited to short-term visits. But even with that problem, I'd expect the Federation to value a planet where people return to perfect health while living in blissful peace.

Unless there are some unknown after-effects that McCoy failed to discover, OC3 seems like a wonderful planet, just not suited for the plan the Federation originally had for it.

It would, however, be delightfully suited for a planet-wide Be-In, a sprawling agrarian society with no violence (no ambition, I can hear Kirk's voice in my mind), no competition (no innovation), no war (no progress). And—if the settlement were in the warmer parts of the planet—no shirts.

Five stars; this one leaves me with happy thoughts, even though I know the possibilities will probably be ignored.

This Side of Potential

by Robin Rose Graves

After the episode’s close, I realized the true message and how the spores are ultimately nothing more than a device through which to convey it. This is a topical episode, representative of the issues that plague us now: the false respite of heroin abuse, the sirensong of Communism. Social commentary absolutely has a place in science fiction, and I don’t entirely hate how this episode is shaped by the message it tries to get across, but I feel it’s at the sacrifice of further exploring the fascinating nature of the spores.

In order to maintain a symbiotic relationship with humans, the spores keep their hosts alive in an environment that would otherwise kill them within a week. In return, the humans cultivate the plants that release these spores. The strangest part of all, this is posed as a problem rather than a brilliant discovery.

The spores not only kept the colony in perfect health for three years, but allowed them to regenerate organs as well as allowed humans to live on the planet despite the presence of harmful Berthold rays. I can’t help but think these plants are the perfect tool for the spacefaring crew of the Enterprise. It would allow them to venture on planets with otherwise hostile environments and to provide lifesaving medical treatment crew probably couldn’t even receive in a hospital, let alone on a starship.

This has been part of a trend I’ve noticed in Star Trek. Interesting ideas are introduced when convenient and abandoned the moment they no longer serve the story they’re trying to tell. Androids. Planetary computers. Time travel (twice!) This, of course, is a symptom of television's episodic nature, necessary to a degree so one doesn't necessarily have to watch all of it to understand what's going on.

Yet it still frustrates. Perhaps even more frustrating is when it happens with characters – particularly whenever there is a female guest star. In this episode, it’s Leila, a woman who has a history with Spock that has never been mentioned before this moment (and I have full confidence will never be referenced again as the story progresses), and who just so happens to be on Omicron Ceti 3.

It was nice knowing you, Leila. I'm sure we won't see you again.

We’ve seen the same thing happen with random past love interests appearing and disappearing in episodes “What are Little Girls Made Of,” (Chapel's Roger Korby) “Shore Leave” (Kirk's Ruth), “Court Martial” (Kirl's Areel Shaw) and even in the series debut episode “The Man Trap” (McCoy's Nancy). Not only is this giving us flat female characters and then sweeping them aside the moment they are no longer needed, but it is also cheating our male characters of development as well. If the series isn’t going to explore the science of its world, at least it could give better attention to its fascinating cast of characters. I say that out of love, because I like the crew (maybe not Kirk so much…) and I want to know more about them, but Star Trek isn’t delivering.

I give this episode 4 stars for what it did, but not 5, because I know what it never can.

Next episode promises to be very different. Join us tomorrow at 8:30 PM (Eastern and Pacific) for a Star Trek:

Here's the invitation–beware the Blob!

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Science Fiction/Fantasy, TV

[March 6, 1967] Men On The Moon (Doctor Who: The Moonbase)

March 6, 2022 Jessica Holmes 1 Comment

By Jessica Holmes

Hello again, everyone, and boy do I have a fun serial for you this month!

The Doctor and pals have had a bumpy landing on the Moon, arriving at a lunar base in the '70s– the 2070s, that is! However, it soon turns out that things are not quite what they seem at this weather station, and an old foe lurks in the shadows…

Let’s recap and review Kit Pedler’s The Moonbase.

EPISODE ONE

We start off with an absolutely cracking episode full of suspense, mystery and a looming sense of dread.

Following a bumpy landing and a nasty crack on the head for Jamie, the Doctor and company find themselves on a multinational lunar base, soon meeting their leader, Hobson (Patrick Barr). This is the station from which all the world's weather is controlled, but lately things haven't been going well.

There’s a nasty pathogen going around, a rapidly-progressing disease that leaves the victim helpless in a matter of seconds.

The base is expecting a relief doctor from Earth, so it’s pretty handy that our Doctor arrived when he did. Don’t worry, he is a real doctor. He got his medical degree from Joseph Lister himself back in the 1880s. I daresay medical science has progressed since then.

However, there may be more to this disease than meets the eye. In the storeroom, one of the base’s scientists notices signs of tampering and hears the approach of footsteps…and a familiar shadow appears on the wall.

Could it be?

While attending to Jamie in the sickbay, the Doctor and Polly bear witness to the last words of the base’s doctor, who screams something about a silver hand before dropping dead.

The Doctor runs off to tell the others, and the familiar silhouette appears again. Though Polly screams for help, it’s gone before anyone else arrives.

The group goes to examine the body, but to their surprise upon pulling back the sheet they find only a few large bags of sugar.

There’s a body snatcher on the loose!

The base staff still have a job to do preventing a hurricane smashing up half the world’s coastlines, so they leave Polly alone with Jamie again. Delirious, Jamie asks Polly to fetch him some water. No prizes for guessing what happens while she’s out of the room. It's almost like a pantomime! A really, really creepy pantomime, that is.

All together now: He's behiiiind you!

The silhouette appears once more, and we finally see what it belongs to. Did you guess right?

The design is a little different now, admittedly. A tad more high-budget, but no less unsettling. Where there was once fabric, the face is now smooth metal, the plastic casing on the chest a little less bulky, but there’s no mistaking those handles.

It’s a Cyberman.

EPISODE TWO

The Cyberman inspects Jamie before moving on and dragging one of the other patients off. Polly catches him leaving, and immediately tells the Doctor what she saw. He believes her, but Hobson doesn't, beginning to grow suspicious of the newcomers. He gives them 24 hours to solve this mystery, or get off his base. The Doctor gets to work, his demeanour much more serious than it has been of late. It's a little jarring!

Unfortunately, this episode is a bit of a drag, with much of its runtime eaten up by the base’s efforts to control a hurricane on Earth using a device called a Gravitron. The Gravitron will be important later, but that doesn’t mean it makes for interesting television right now. Still, it is somewhat amusing to watch everyone try to get on with their work while the Doctor goes around stealing people’s shoes for analysis.

Suspecting that it may have been sabotaged, two of the men on base head out to inspect the Gravitron, only to run afoul of a pair of Cybermen. Just how many of these things are lurking about?!

The body-snatching Cyberman comes back again while Polly attends to Jamie, knocking the pair out before absconding with yet another patient. Having had enough, Hobson accuses the Doctor of being behind all this sabotage, sending him into full pacification mode. He pretends to have found something, and Polly makes everyone coffee in an attempt to smooth things over.

It mollifies Hobson, but only for a moment, as one of the men suddenly collapses, his skin developing the tell-tale vein-like marks. That’s when the Doctor realises how this pathogen is spreading– it’s in the sugar!

See, this is why I don't sweeten my tea.

More worryingly than a bit of contaminated sugar however, the Doctor has another epiphany. The base has been thoroughly searched for signs of Cyberman incursion…but the sickbay, having been continually occupied, hasn’t.

And that’s when they realise that one of the patients isn’t a patient at all…

EPISODE THREE

It turns out that not only do the Cybermen have new faces, they have new voices. The odd sing-song has been replaced by a more straightforwardly robotic monotone, which is interesting, but I don’t find it as unnerving. Perhaps a combination of voice modulation and the uncanny sing-song vocal performance would maximize the terror?

Curiously, like the Daleks, the Cybermen also recognise the Doctor despite his new face. How can they tell it’s still him? Can they see something we can’t? Perhaps he still wears the same cologne.

In the nearby Cyber-ship, the other Cybermen prepare their captives for conversion. It’s all rather ghastly, but we’re spared any gruesome surgical scenes, as the ‘conversion’ appears to only go as far as mind-controlling the captives.

The Cybermen are kind enough to explain their dastardly plan and their motives. Why do villains always do that? Anyway, they’re going to take control of the Gravitron and use it to wreak havoc on the weather and obliterate everything on Earth’s surface. It’s nothing personal, but life on Earth is a threat to them, so they're eliminating it.

For a bunch of baddies that supposedly don’t feel emotions, I can’t help but think this sounds like they’re scared.

Jamie finally recovers from his head injury, and Ben and Polly discuss how they might beat the Cybermen. Unfortunately this time around they don’t have any handy radioactive material, so they’ll have to get creative. At Jamie’s mention of sprinkling witches with holy water, Polly gets a smart idea. Perhaps a solvent could corrode the boxes of machinery on their chests?

But what solvent to use? After all, there’s lots of different plastics out there and what works on one might not work on another.

In an experiment that absolutely should not be repeated at home, Polly mixes all the solvents she can get her hands on and puts the concoction into spray bottles.

Polly’s Magical Melting Potion:

1 part benzene (fair enough, that’d work on polystyrene)
1 part ether (permeates most plastics but won’t really melt them into goo)
1 part alcohol (Polly doesn’t say which kind, but I’d guess ethanol. Ethanol will degrade certain plastics, but only very slowly)
1 part acetone (probably the most useful solvent in the list)
1 part epoxy-propane (I’m not even sure if this can be used to melt plastic, and I’m not about to buy some and test it out)

Directions:

1. Mix ingredients
2. Put mixture in…plastic…spray bottles. Hmm.

Not only would this not work, I think it might actually be dangerous, and definitely not a good example for children, who might get it into their heads to make their own anti-Cyberman spray.

With that done, Ben and Jamie go off to squirt some Cybermen. Polly’s not invited, because this is MEN'S WORK! Polly does not pay them any mind, of course, and I admire her restraint in not spraying solvent in Ben’s eyes. Jeez, Ben, ever heard of feminism?

They burst into the control room and let loose, the Cybermen proving no match for Polly’s concoction. Their death noise is funnier than it should be: ‘wubwubwubwubwub!’ I had a guinea pig who used to make a noise just like that when he ran around on the carpet.

Safe for now, the Doctor and company remove the headpieces from the controlled men and rush them to the medical bay, while the others try to get the Gravitron back under control.

Realising something must have gone wrong, the Cybermen on the ship have a change of plan. The time for subterfuge is over. Now it’s time for an invasion.

EPISODE FOUR

Things come to a head in this episode, with plenty of tension (and sometimes stupidity) to go around.

The Cybermen cut off the base’s line of communication with Earth, but those inside the base don’t panic just yet. Having been unable to contact the base, Earth will surely have sent help by now, so all they need to do is sit tight until help arrives.

Sit tight, and maybe keep an eye on the recently mind-controlled men?

…No?

The Cybermen transmit their control signal again, directing one of their thralls to escape the sickbay and gain access to the Gravitron controls. Somehow, nobody notices as he walks right through the control room and into the Gravitron room, where he knocks out the man on duty and takes the controls. I’m not being funny, but there’s literally a window into the Gravitron room. Does nobody have eyes?!

Our heroes’ joy at seeing the approaching Earth ship is short-lived, as it abruptly turns around and starts accelerating towards the Sun, deflected by the beam from the Gravitron.

Taking things from bad to worse, the Cybermen blast the outer shell of the base with a laser weapon. Air rushes out through the hole, and it’s only with some quick thinking by Hobson that the whole group doesn’t suffocate.

With the mind-controlled thrall now unconscious, the group regains control of the Gravitron.

The Cybermen don’t realise this, however, and find themselves greatly surprised when their next laser blast deflects harmlessly off the Gravitron’s beam.

Now with the upper hand, the Doctor and Hobson disable the Gravitron’s safety controls and point it right at the advancing Cybermen, sending them floating off into the vacuum of space. Let’s hope wherever they land, they land with a crash.

The base gets to work to get the world’s weather back under control, and the Doctor and pals head off, not bothering to say goodbye.

Back in the TARDIS, the Doctor decides to use the time scanner to get an idea of the future, and gets a glimpse of the dish of the day at the nearest seafood restaurant.

Or maybe a space monster.

But my money’s on the lobster.

Final Thoughts

I was a bit surprised to be seeing the Cybermen again so soon, but I’m not complaining. This serial doesn’t really expand on them much or explore their worldview in greater detail, but hopefully we might see some of that in the future.

It's also a little surprising that the Cybermen have been redesigned already, given other recurring enemies like the Daleks have been very consistent in their design. Then again I suppose it does make narrative sense. As their own technology improves, it follows that they would repair or replace outdated components. Still, I hope that the design won't end up completely inhuman. The real horror of the Cybermen is that you can very much recognise that there is a person under all the machinery, so it would be a real shame to lose that.

So, that was the Moonbase! Some jolly exciting stuff, I’m sure you’ll agree. Admittedly the minor characters aren’t very interesting (they’re basically interchangeable, apart from their accents) and there’s a definite lull in the second episode. Still, on the whole it’s very well plotted and tense.

Here's hoping the Cybermen will be back again before too long, and that this streak of fun stories continues!

My rating: 4 out of 5 stars

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Science Fiction/Fantasy, TV

[March 2, 1967] (Star Trek: "A Taste of Armageddon")

March 2, 2022 Jessica Dickinson Goodman 5 Comments

A Cold, Cruel Counting

by Jessica Dickinson Goodman

Most of my friends only experience the war through numbers. Unless they have family on the streets where the bombs are falling, in uniform or not, kill counts reported on the screens in our homes are the only way many people track the war in real-time.

It helps me to remember that TV show writers don't live in a pocket universe, one more far-seeing, wiser than the one in which we all shower and shave and find holes in our socks every day. Unless they are unlucky enough to have participated in the current war, their knowledge of the war comes from those same sources.

The pictures we see on television or in our papers – bombs, bodies, landscapes we've never driven through, leaders speaking languages we do not, propaganda both crudely and delicately crafted – have limited currency. But numbers, kill counts especially, are strangely memorable. We repeat them, over and over, as if these numbers tell us something of what it is like to fight and die on the other side of the world.

Gideon's copy of The World in 1966: History as We Lived It by the Writers, Photographers, and Editors of The Associated Press (Published February 1967) has this to say about the ongoing conflict in Vietnam:

"The allied side lost nearly 14,500 dead during the year, including some 4,800 Americans. Enemy dead were placed at 50,000, but some officials privately said the figure was inflated."

The war in "A Taste of Armageddon" feels like the product of this numbers-based approach to understanding war. In this writerly extension of bloodlessly reported casualty counts, Captain Kirk and his crew face two entire societies (Eminiar Seven and Vendikar) which conduct their war via computers and then tally up the expected deaths. Living people then march into disintegration chambers to keep their 500 year war's gory score. Those societies have chosen to ensure that:

Anan: […] Our civilization lives. The people die, but our culture goes on.
Kirk: You mean to tell me your people just walk into a disintegration machine when they're told to?
Anan: We have a high consciousness of duty, Captain.

Backing up, Captain Kirk and his crew had been ferrying Ambassador Fox to open up diplomatic relations with Eminiar Seven, who they have little knowledge of. They are warned away, but acting under the Ambassador's orders, they disregard the warnings. It soon comes to light that, by entering orbit around Eminiar Seven, the Eminians and Vendikans now consider the Enterprise as a fair target in their murderously bloodless war games. When Captain Kirk declines to order the crew to transport themselves to the surface to be disintegrated, the leaders of the planet hold him and the rest of the landing party hostage.

There is some clever interplay, personal bravery, voice-faking trickery, stubborn commitment to principals on both sides, a self-sacrificing lady in distress, a self-important diplomat, some cruel things said about diplomats as a category by Mr. Scott ("Diplomats. The best diplomat I know is a fully activated phaser bank"), and finally, a threat of overwhelming force, via the apparently genocidal standing "Order Twenty Four." (I spent much of the episode hoping "Order 24" was an old joke between the Captain and Scotty, but that shoe never dropped, leaving me disturbed as to Starfleet's comfort with destroying sentient life en mass). Eventually, Captain Kirk gains the upper hand and forces the Eminians and Vendikans to the negotiating table, with the following mandate:

Kirk: "I've given you back the horrors of war. The Vendikans now assume that you've broken your agreement and that you're preparing to wage real war with real weapons. They'll want to do the same. Only the next attack they launch will do a lot more than count up numbers in a computer. They'll destroy cities, devastate your planet. You of course will want to retaliate. If I were you, I'd start making bombs. Yes, Councilman, you have a real war on your hands. You can either wage it with real weapons, or you might consider an alternative. Put an end to it. Make peace."

Make Love, not War

Because, despite the callow specimen of a diplomat that Ambassador Fox turns out to be, all wars – computer-run or otherwise – end at the negotiating table. Smart leaders try to get there as soon as possible, because they know the reality that the Eminians and Vendikans did not seem to grasp: every life lost in war is a blow to that culture. Every dead body, bomb explosion, pitted landscape, dead leader, and bit of corrosive propoganda is part of cultural death.

To be clear, I am not against self-defense in war. A proper pacifist, I am not. If I had the option of being drafted, I could not honestly mark myself a conscientious objector because I do believe there are some wars that need fighting; the jacket I wear in my photo was a relative's Plebe jacket from West Point, class of '49 and he is not the only one to serve in my family. But wars of choice are an entirely different matter to me. Those leaders who wake up one morning and decide to send other people's children to die over borders they should not have crossed in the first place are a curse upon our shared world. We have no idea how the war between the Eminians and Venikans began – by choice, by misunderstanding, by cement-shoe treaties, or with one attacking and the other defending. They do not seem to recall the inciting incident either. In the end, like all wars, peace will only come from talking.

And I find myself agreeing with Captain Kirk, wishing more people would know the consequences of war, and not just the counts of it. Perhaps we too would seek peace and hold her more dearly if we did.

Four stars.

A Polite and Gentle War?

by Erica Frank

I'm sure Dr. Leary would have something to say about the psychology of a whole society—two whole planets, in fact—that has indoctrinated its people so well that they politely march off to death when a computer tells them to.

This is exactly the opposite of the Human Be-In that took place in San Francisco last month, with its focus on "Turn on, tune in, drop out." Instead, the Eminians (and, presumably, Vendikans, although we don't meet them) have a whole culture of "Show up, tune out, drop dead."

The Eminians could take a page from our book…

While their society appears peaceful to Kirk and his team, there must be a great deal of turmoil under the surface. It's not easy to get people to just politely walk to their deaths, so their indoctrination must start very young—perhaps in infancy. Otherwise, how could you explain to a six-year-old that Mommy is leaving forever because a computer said she's dead now? Do parents calmly hand over their children to be disintegrated? …Or are children exempt from "war death," and that's one of the "messy" parts of war that their game avoids? Either way, Eminiar must have a booming business in last-minute video recordings left at the disintegration center for loved ones to pick up later.

However, I suspect the people are not so controlled as all that. While some people—like the High Council—might walk quietly to their own deaths for the sake of society, the general populace may not be so compliant.

"All those in favor of marching to your death, please remain seated."

What terrors must their death guardians commit on the populace, to convince millions of people to leave their families to die?

What do anti-war protests on Eminiar look like? Perhaps they hang around the death centers, handing out flyers that say "You Still Live! Reject the Computer and Reclaim Your Life!" Of course, the High Council would have the Enterprise crew believe that nobody protests, that everyone follows orders. But if that's true… why do their guards carry guns?

Eminiar seems to be a technologically advanced society. Surely a society that is at peace except for the cold calculations of the war itself, has little experience with interpersonal violence. But their guards are armed and well-trained. If people go to their deaths without complaint, why would their guards be so combat-ready that they are able to take down Kirk and his team? Who are they trained to fight when Federation agents aren't visiting?

I think we only got to see a tiny slice of Eminian life, filtered through the biases of the council that calmly declares millions of deaths and then makes sure that number comes true. We saw "Ministry of Peace" propaganda, not what life is actually like for most people.

Four stars. The more I think about this episode, the more chilling implications I find.

Mutually Assured Accounting

by Lorelei Marcus

How often can someone confidently say they are living through an historic event? The kind of world-altering occurrence or period that will go down in the textbooks, that kids will memorize for years to come.

I think everyone lives through three or four. I narrowly missed World War II, but the bulk of my life has been spent in the conflict that has succeeded it. Indeed, this one may be even more global in character than the last, because we all are living in its shadow: The Cold War.

I know the Cold War is a big deal, beyond the news items, the Duck and Cover drills, the Ban the Bomb protests, because it is everywhere in my entertainment. In songs like Barry MacGuire's Eve of Destruction. In movies like Dr. Strangelove, Failsafe, On the Beach, Panic in Year Zero. On the small screen in shows like Twilight Zone and Britain's The War Game. Books like Alas, Babylon and Farnham's Freehold.

These cautionary tales are so omnipresent that they've almost become cliché. Sure, we're all afraid of the Bomb. Using it is clearly senseless. What else can/need be said?

So you can imagine my surprise (and not a little delight) at Star Trek's complete inversion of this theme with its latest episode, "A Taste of Armageddon".

Rather than the typical structure of two equally matched parties tensely avoiding conflict because of mutually assured destruction, instead the episode plunges us right into a Hot War. A hot but clean war with no real weapons, but innumerable calculated casualties.

"G-4" "It's a hit!"

To stave off the possibility of total annihilation from an ever-escalating conflict, the two superpowers (planets in this case) chose to guarantee destruction, but only of people. What a clever, callous twist! Not only is it a comment on how nations might paradoxically value their existence over their constituents (what is a country if not the people living in it?) but it also highlights that no matter how efficiently one conducts a war, the result is still death and ruin.

The only answer is peace. Five stars.

Getting to Know You

by Gideon Marcus

My colleagues have done an excellent job discussing the content of the episode, so I just want to note a few nifty things about its production.

One of the things that endears Star Trek to me is its ensemble nature. This was a particularly balanced episode that saw many of its principals shining (though Uhura still remains underused, and Sulu was absent this week). I was particularly impressed with Chief Engineer Scott's first televised turn at the helm, at which I thought he did just fine. It seems a little strange to have the engineers in line for the bridge's center seat, but the "Starfleet" of the "United Federation of Planets" (terms of art we're starting to hear more and more) seems a lot looser on branch distinctions than the U.S. Navy. Viz. Kevin Riley (is he still around?) moving from Engineering, to Navigation, to Communications–a path Lt. Uhura also seems to have traveled.

"I'll nae lower th' screens!"

This is the second time we've had a special Federation commissioner on board. While I did not appreciate Mr. Fox most of the time, I do appreciate that the Enterprise is often a courier as well as a scientific vessel and sometimes warship. The jack-of-all-trades cruiser-like nature of the ship allows for a wide variety of interesting stories.

Joe Pevney has returned to take up the director's megaphone. He and Marc Daniels appear to have most put their imprimatur on this fledgling show, and they have yet to really disappoint (sometimes scripts let them down, of course). A name I am seeing more is Gene L. Coon, usually in co-writing credits. I've seen him all over television, particularly on Laredo, COMBAT!, and Wagon Train. I'm sure there are others I've missed/forgotten. Along with his arrival, I'm noticing a minor change in tone. Trek feels less like an anthology show that happens to have consistent characters, and more like its own entity–a lived-in universe.

I suppose it was inevitable that, as the world of Trek became established, folks not attached to the show would want to become part of the phenomenon, particularly in light of the big "Save Star Trek" campaign we saw at the end of last year. So it is no surprise that we are seeing our first Trek-specific clubs and even club 'zines.

Trek has been guaranteed at least one more season. I look forward not only to more great episodes like this one (I give it a solid four stars), but also to learning more about the inhabitants and worlds that populate it!

Something WEIRD is going on. Join us tonight at 8:30 PM (Eastern and Pacific) for what looks like it will be a very strange episode of Star Trek:

Here's the invitation!

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[February 22, 1967] Where some (super)men had gone before (Star Trek's: "Space Seed")

February 22, 2022 Janice L. Newman 8 Comments

The Best of Tyrants, The Worst of Tyrants

by Janice L. Newman

Eugenics—the idea that people can be ‘bred’ to emphasize certain desirable traits the way breeders do with animals or botanists do with plants—is an interesting concept in a science fiction setting. So it’s not surprising to encounter an episode of Star Trek built around the concept. What is a little surprising is that the narrative doesn’t do more to condemn either the concept or the practice.

Space Seed begins with the Enterprise finding an ancient Earth vessel with no crew except a group of men and women in cold sleep, their bodies held in stasis. The arrival of the away team triggers the ship, which is suggestively named the “S.S. Botany Bay”, to awaken one of the sleepers.

Sleeping Beauty

After nearly dying during the revival process, the man is brought aboard the Enterprise. He proceeds to threaten Dr. McCoy (who responds with such chutzpah that I think it’s my new favorite scene with him). McCoy neglects to mention the threat to Captain Kirk, who gives “Khan” access to the ship’s libraries and implicit access to his crew. Khan takes full advantage of both, reading up on the ship’s structure and defenses as well as aggressively seducing and manipulating the ship’s historian, Lieutenant Marla McGivers.

Eventually research reveals that “Khan” is “Khan Noonien Singh”, who was, as Mr. Spock says, “From 1992 through 1996, absolute ruler of more than a quarter of your world. From Asia through the Middle East.” Khan and the rest of his crew were the product of eugenics experiments that succeeded in making men and women who were stronger, faster, and smarter than the average human. A group who were, or at least who were raised to think they were, the next Caesars, Alexanders, or Napoleons.

The conversation between Mr. Scott, Doctor McCoy, Captain Kirk, and Mr. Spock that follows this revelation is…odd, to say the least. Scotty admits to a secret admiration for Kahn. Kirk calls him “the best of the tyrants” (WHAT?) Even McCoy notes that there were no wars under him unless others attacked first. Only Mr. Spock expresses shock and repugnance at “this romanticism about a ruthless dictator”. There is some suggestion that the others are teasing Spock, trying to get an emotional reaction out of him, but there’s also a note of sincerity in their words that made me intensely uncomfortable.

"C'mon, Spock. We're just pulling your ears! You do have to admit, though, that the Nazis had some spiffy uniforms."

Captain Kirk puts a guard on Khan’s quarters, but Khan easily breaks out and, making use of McGivers, he revives the rest of his own crew and easily takes control of the Enterprise. When he enacts a brutal rule, first suffocating the bridge crew when they refuse to give up the vessel to him, then threatening to kill them one by one unless they work for him, McGivers turns on him and saves Captain Kirk’s life. Together, Kirk and Spock take back the Enterprise.

"Who's the superman now, huh?"

Kirk chooses to leave the “supermen” alone on a harsh planet, to try to carve out a colony of their own. McGivers chooses to go with them. I suspect her life with a group of people who believe that she is too inferior even to be good breeding stock will not be a happy one.

As with several other episodes where an arrogant or violent man has gone after a woman, Khan’s relationship with McGivers isn’t particularly romanticized, which I appreciated. He’s shown to be brutal, controlling, and extremely manipulative, which had the majority of the audience in our group revulsed, shouting to McGivers that he wasn’t worth it.

To be fair, Khan is an excellent hairdresser.

On the other hand, the narrative does romanticize eugenics to a distressing degree. Even the concept that the eugenics experiments were actually successful in breeding a group of superhumans is one that is both scientifically implausible and morally disgusting. The very existence of Kahn and his group within the context of the story says that such experiments are not only possible, but that they could work. But even those with only the most basic understanding of dog breeding, for example, know that emphasizing one trait can often lead to other, undesirable ones. [It might be possible to control "breeding" at the cellular level, as is done in Herbert's The Eyes of Heisenberg; that seems a more plausible explanation (ed.)]

Add to this the fact that most of the leadership of the Enterprise seem enamored of the idea of these faster, stronger, better men and women, with only Mr. Spock being the (derided) voice of reason. Even at the end, Kirk says, “What a waste to put them in a reorientation center.” And so they are explicitly sent to the planet not because they are too dangerous to house on a penal colony, but because it would be a “waste” of their strength and potential to do so. This group repeatedly said they were superior to humans. They were arrogant, cruel, condescending, and incredibly dangerous. Yet it would be a “waste” to try to retrain them and to teach them empathy? Wouldn’t attempting to make them productive members of society who don’t believe that they’re superior to everyone else be a better use of their potential?

Space Seed was a well-made episode, and Ricardo Montalbán was excellent as Khan. But the inclusion of genetically-created “supermen”, and the framing of them as anything other than the tyrants and dictators they were, knocked my rating down a little. I give the episode three and a half stars.

Not My Superman

by Jessica Dickinson Goodman

When Mr. Spock (or any Vulcanian) sees a Romulan, he can safely think, there but for the grace of logic go I. In "Balance of Terror", he describes the relationship between his homeworld and the people of Romulus:

Spock: And if Romulans are an offshoot of my Vulcan blood, and I think this likely, then attack becomes even more imperative.
McCoy: War is never imperative, Mister Spock.
Spock: It is for them, Doctor. Vulcan, like Earth, had its aggressive colonizing period. Savage, even by Earth standards. And if Romulans retain this martial philosophy, then weakness is something we dare not show.

Spock's distant cousins, the ones we don't talk about

Warfaring, brutal, brilliant, manipulative, brave, self-superior, male-dominated – that describes both Khan Noonien Singh's comrades and the Romulans we have met. In both episodes, we had the pleasure of viewing the crew of the Enterprise meeting their match; struggling, failing, and ultimately overcoming the putatively superior foe. Even the temporary betrayal of Dr. McGivers – under deeply disturbing coercion by Singh – resolves when she frees Captain Kirk.

The historian's equivalent of "the Spock pinch"

Perhaps this comparison is why Spock reacts so quickly and so strongly to the maybe-teasing of the crew about Singh and his comrades. As Janice notes, that scene was uncomfortable, particularly when it immediately followed the brutal conversion of Dr. McGivers to Singh's way of thinking. Just as there was no romance in that scene, like Spock and like Janice, I would have preferred less romanticization about the Eugenics Wars.

But where Spock seems secure in his people's relationship to Romulans as well as confident that unmodified humanity is superior to overbred and overweening demi-tyrants, there is an insecurity humming under the interactions between the humans on the ship and Singh's cadre. Perhaps that is why Kirk does not even try to hold them accountable for their violence against the crew of the Enterprise or integrate them into their society.

I prefer Spock's dismissiveness to Kirk's initial admiration; aside from pretty looks, I didn't find much to recommend Singh as a leader or a "superman."

Not my Clark Kent

Since long before Nietzshe set quaking pen down to yellowing paper, a certain style of man has yearned for the emergence of what have been called übermensch, or supermen. One of my favorite innovations of our century has been the re-working of that concept in comic books like Captain America and of course, Superman. In those, sure, the title characters are as Kirk describes "[s]tronger, braver, certainly more ambitious, more daring." But they are made heroic not by those differences of species and medical intervention, but by Steve Roger's commitment to fighting for the little guy, for defending democracy and freedom, and Clark Kent's dedication to doing anonymous good. Values I cannot see Singh being guided by. Likewise, I cannot imagine Clark Kent – who would easily best any of Singh's cohort in a fist fight with his laser eyes blindfolded and one bullet-proof hand tied behind his back – taking over entire continents of people as Singh did in the far-off 1990s.

A real Superman

A humble reporter; an artist and friend. These are the übermensch I grew-up with. Like Spock, I do not see the value in men like Singh.

But I did value the chance to see this corner of future history so thoroughly explored. I hope, if we ever see Singh again, he will be singing a different tune – maybe something about "truth, justice, and the American way."

Four stars.

by Andrea Castaneda

We all love a good villain. They neither ask permission nor forgiveness as they break the rules, challenging the hero in an effortlessly charming way. Khan is such a villain. And in his short time aboard the ship, he was able to seduce, manipulate, and deceive his way into controlling the Enterprise. This feat, combined with Ricardo Montalbán's phenomenal performance, is what made him such a compelling character. In fact, it would appear that his magnetism not only affected the crew, but also the writers themselves.

There’s a scene midway through the episode that illustrates this point. When we learn this 20th century guest was actually a former tyrant from his original time, Scotty admits– in an almost giddy way– that he admires him on some level. Kirk echoes this, saying he was in fact the best, though he adds it's what makes him dangerous. It’s a very human sentiment. And I think many of us have fantasized about what it is like to relinquish the restraints of civilized society, taking what’s “ours” as we please.

With that said, I was relieved to see Spock’s shock and horror at how his colleagues romanticized the autocrat. A part of me wonders if Leonard Nimoy’s Jewish heritage played a role in how his character reacted. After all, the very real tyrants from our time, who terrorized the world and sought to wipe out the Jewish community, are not ghosts from very long ago.

It seems that with the buffer of time, we as a society tend to sanitize the actions of bad men from yesteryear. We still acknowledge that a man like Attila the Hun was ruthless. Yet we saw Anthony Quinn play him in 1954, alongside the beautiful Sophia Loren, portraying him as an alluring leader and formidable foe against the Romans. Then we have men like Blackbeard, once considered a dreaded and despicable outlaw of the high seas. Yet today, the pirate has been rehabilitated for family consumption, via Disneyland’s upcoming attraction “Pirates of the Caribbean” (opening next month).

The nicer pirate

I’m not trying to be a party pooper and say people aren't allowed to enjoy those things. Nor am I saying villains should be bland and one dimensional. But it does make me wonder if we will treat the villains from our time, such as Adolf Hitler or Joseph Stalin, with the same sanitized view. It’s a paradoxical standard we seem to return to, where we condemn them for their merciless ways, yet admire them all the same for it. As Kirk put it, “We can be against him and admire him all at the same time.” But it’s important to ask ourselves if we’d feel the same way if those very tyrants placed a boot upon our neck, not once letting up.

Despite my philosophical quandaries, I give this episode four stars. It had its imperfections, but it captivated me all the way through. The audience loves a good villain, and Khan is a great one. I only ask, both to the writers and ourselves, do we condemn these men for the harm they’ve caused or condemn them because they– in the end– lost?

by Gideon Marcus

On the Third Hand

Kirk ended "Space Seed" looking awfully generous. After all, Khan had just tried to turn him inside out in the vacuum chamber, threatened his true love (the Enterprise), and didn't even thank the captain for sharing his limited stock of Windex. Yet, instead of sending Khan and his troupe of Hollywood Palace acrobats to Tantalus for rehabilitation, or kicking the problem upstairs to Commodores "Mendez or Stone, Kirk exercises his broad authority to maroon the "supermen" on a rude, backwoods planet.

"We've got this bell; we gotta get some use out of it!"

I don't think this was done as a courtesy or an amelioration of sentence, however prettily Kirk puts this to his prisoners. The fact is, Khan and his people are dangerous. They can't be killed–there's only one death penalty on the books. They probably can't be rehabilitated–Khan's nature is clearly deeply ingrained–and given his magnetic effect (on women and men), chances are they'd just launch a revolution from wherever they were stashed.

So Kirk, instead, used his discretion (and McCoy notes that it's a rather extreme interpretation of his powers), to sweep Khan (and McGivers) under the rug where they can't do any harm. No muss, no fuss! It's actually rather brilliant.

However much I admire this creative thinking on Kirk's part, I can't say "Space Seed" was my favorite of episodes. I quickly grew fatigued of Khan and his imperious nature (not helped by seeing Mr. Montalbán just two days later as a heavy on Mission: Impossible). I enjoyed Mr. Spock and the 1990s history lesson, but beyond that, the episode left me curiously cold.

Three stars.

It looks like Kirk is traveling to modern Babylonia this week. Join us tomorrow at 8:30 PM (Eastern and Pacific),

Here's the invitation!

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Galactic Journey

Tag Archives: television

[April 10, 1967] A Queer Dream (the CBS "documentary" The Homosexuals)

[April 6, 1967] But what of Star Trek? ("The Alternative Factor")

[April 2, 1967] On The Immortality Of The Crab (Doctor Who: The Macra Terror)

[March 30, 1967] The Peacekeepers (Star Trek: "Errand of Mercy")

[March 22, 1967] The Lurking Fear (Star Trek: "The Devil in the Dark")

[March 12, 1967] Computerized Futures & Humanity (Out of the Unknown: Season Two)

[March 8, 1967] Absolute perfection (Star Trek: "This Side of Paradise")

[March 6, 1967] Men On The Moon (Doctor Who: The Moonbase)

Polly’s Magical Melting Potion:

Directions:

[March 2, 1967] (Star Trek: "A Taste of Armageddon")

[February 22, 1967] Where some (super)men had gone before (Star Trek's: "Space Seed")

55 years ago: Science Fact and Fiction